Find Your Way Home
by ninalasvegas
Summary: AU. The Hunger Games separate three best friends since childhood. As they all struggle with goodbyes, two are brought to the Capitol where a new rule is revealed that could shatter everyone's world.
1. Chapter 1

"Seriously, Gale?" I jump up to wrestle my bow out of his grip. He simply raises his hand higher which leaves it completely out of my grasp. He towers over me, his grey eyes sparkling in amusement and his dark hair glistening in the sunlight. Peeta is watching us laughing hysterically and I turn to scowl at him. "Shut up, Peeta. You guys need to stop ganging up on me!"

"Aw, Catnip, we're just teasing," Gale banters as he lowers the bow. I reach for it and he swiftly darts out of the way, tossing it to Peeta who puts it behind his back. He backs up slowly and I stalk towards him narrowing my eyes. His bright blue eyes stare back at me in mischief.

"If you don't give it to me, I'm telling your dad you closed the shop early yesterday."

His jaw drops. "I closed five minutes early! It was slow and I had to pee!"

"He doesn't know that." I give him my sweetest smile and he glowers at me before handing over the bow, rolling his eyes. One hand goes through his tousled blonde hair as he huffs at me. I smile in triumph and stick my tongue out at him and Gale.

"See? Us girls always win, even if the odds _aren't_ always in our favor."

"Pansy," Gale chuckles. He nudges Peeta in the stomach with his elbow. Peeta sighs and shrugs, stooping down to tie a shoelace. He doesn't argue back with Gale; he knows he was joking. Honestly Peeta's dad probably wouldn't be angry, but it's the day before the Reaping- everyone has been a bit tense. He flicks off a piece of dirt stuck to his shoe and stands, looking around us at the forest.

I smile at my best friends and lead the three of us back towards the fence. Gale is carrying our kill for the day and Peeta lags behind stomping through the twigs as usual. He doesn't hunt but he enjoys coming out with us occasionally to get away from the bakery and from all of the people in town.

We all find solace in each other when everything else gets crazy, especially the last few days.

The three of us have been around each other non stop to avoid our families who are driving us insane. My Mother has just been staring off into space as usual, sometimes lucid enough to have a normal conversation, sometimes not. Prim, bless her heart, does nothing but cry. This is her first year in the Reaping. Every night I sing her to sleep and she still wakes up screaming.

Gale's mom alternates between working herself to death and worrying over her children and what would happen if any of their names are drawn. His mom is the strongest woman I know, but at this time every year she's an emotional wreck. Both of our fathers are gone because of the mining explosion when we were young so at least we don't have to worry about that.

Meanwhile, Peeta's mother is crazy as usual. Lately every night after he gets off work he usually comes to my house to hang out, every day just a little more withdrawn. Usually the more he comes over, the worse it is.

His dad helps as much as he can; Peeta says he's going to leave his mother one of these days but he still hasn't done it yet. He says his mom threatens to take the kids away, and he doesn't want to try her. I don't blame him. The last thing I would want for my kids is for them to be stuck with a witch like her.

We walk through the trees as a small group of misfit kids from District 12, three teenagers who have been through everything together. We walk closer to the fence, to our families, to the day of the Reaping.

We walk towards an unknown future.

* * *

Later that night we all lay in my backyard on our backs under an old oak tree. It's our spot, the place we all retreat to. A blanket is spread out underneath us and the branches rustle overhead as a lamp illuminates us.

We're all quiet tonight in anticipation and fear of tomorrow. It's like this every year; as hard as we try to make it seem like we're alright, the fear always takes over. Peeta is the first to break the silence.

"So, tomorrow..." He trails off and lets the words hang in the air.

Gale scoffs. "Two poor unlucky people are getting dragged to their death."

"You never know," I mumble. "Maybe someone from District 12 will win this year."

He rolls his eyes. "Don't be naive, Catnip. We haven't had a victor since Haymitch. Do you know how old he is?"

"He's an alcoholic," Peeta murmurs. "I don't blame him. I can only imagine what the games do to a person."

"Exactly. He's a drunk, and even when he's supposed to be mentoring our tributes he does nothing but drink away his sorrows. I've heard plenty of stories. Don't feel too bad for him. He's just a lowlife piece of scum." He pauses. "Besides, the games are nothing but an outlet for the sick freaks from the Capitol. Anyone who wants to watch it is seriously demented."

"Gale," I say harshly. He stops talking and shuts his mouth. His jaw tenses as he exhales sharply. He chews the inside of his cheek and rolls his eyes. We're all quiet. The crickets are chirping in the distance.

"I've got a bad feeling about tomorrow," Peeta whispers, a quiet sigh escaping his body as he flips over on his stomach to face us. His eyes meet mine, unwavering, and he closes them. He puts his head in his hands. "I don't know why, and it might sound crazy. I just do."

The three of us are quiet for a moment as the atmosphere changes around us. This is the first time any of us has actually spoken of our fear of going into the games. An uncomfortable air surrounds us and then breaks.

Gale turns over and puts a hand on Peeta's shoulder. "You don't sound crazy, man. It could happen to anyone. But it can't happen to you; you're too good. You're the best of us." He gives him a small smile. "Besides, out of the three of us, we all know I'm the most likely to go in."

Neither of us argue with that; it's true. Peeta only has his name in sixteen times; I have mine in twenty.

Gale's is in forty-two.

The odds are not in his favor tomorrow.

I look at both of them and my heart breaks. I can't see myself without having the two of them in my life. Gale is strong, independent, and rough, whereas Peeta is inquisitive, sensitive, and gentle. The two of them are all I have outside of my family. We all have so much history. Without a doubt we'll take care of the family of the person who leaves, but then something else comes to mind.

"Let's make a pact." The two of them look up at me, their eyes flickering to each other for a moment before looking at me again. "If one of us goes, we fulfill one last wish of the person whose name was called. We can all think of something now and say it out loud. We'll make a pact. Here. Tonight."

"I want my family taken care of," Gale says first.

I roll my eyes. "That goes without saying, Gale. I know if I left, you and Peeta would provide for Mom and Prim. I trust you guys. And I know if one of you left I would make sure they're taken care of as well. Am I right?" They both nod in agreement. "Something different. Something little or big or anything."

"Like what then?" Gale seems impatient as he watches me.

"If I could have one last wish, it would be that Prim would learn how to hunt. That way she could provide for herself if she needs to and if her name did happen to be called in the reaping one day, she might have a fighting chance."

The two of them are quiet for a few moments. Gale sighs. "Done. And even if your name doesn't get called, we could still do that. It wouldn't hurt to teach her."

I nod. "That's true. But as of right now, she's never had to learn. She's only twelve. She's had me. If I get called, I need you guys to step up."

"But I don't hunt." Peeta interrupts us. "How would I be able to help?"

I pause for a moment, thinking of how to arrange my words right. "Peeta, you're the most patient person I know. When Gale gets frustrated, you'd be the one to calm him and Prim down. You would be the encouraging voice leading them forward. Trust me, you'll help."

He gives me a small smile and nods. I turn on my belly to face both of them, my head resting on my propped elbows. Peeta's voice is quiet as he begins to speak.

"I always worry about the two of you." Gale and I both snap our heads up as we look at him. "What? Let's face it, I'm like the peacekeeper of the three of us. When something goes wrong, everyone talks to me, everyone depends on me. And don't get me wrong, I love it. I wouldn't have it any other way," he insists, his eyes gazing intently into mine. He takes a deep breath. "But I need to know that you two will be okay. I need to know you'll move on with your lives and not give up when I'm gone."

"Peeta..."

"Seriously. My last wish would be for you both to keep living without me. I love you guys." He pauses. "And my Dad. I need you guys to make sure my Dad is okay." I blink back tears and lean forward and lean my head on Peeta's shoulder. He leans his head on top of mine and I can feel his body let out a long breath. I look up and see Gale staring at us. I straighten and sit up, crossing my legs.

"Your turn, Gale."

"I just want to be remembered."

My eyebrows furrow as I look at him. "Of course you would be remembered. Are you kidding me? We could never forget you."

"I don't want to die as just another tribute, District 12, coal miner. I want to be remembered as Gale Hawthorne, bad ass hunter. Or Gale Hawthorne, family man. Or even just Gale Hawthorne, best friend. I don't want to leave as just another person. I want to be remembered as someone special to you," he says, looking me directly in the eyes.

I have a feeling that this request isn't for Peeta, but for me. I feel slightly uncomfortable at this and I shift positions, breaking eye contact. The longing in his eyes doesn't disappear as they drift away. Peeta's eyes flicker to me and back to Gale.

"So it's agreed. Prim will learn to hunt. We learn to live without Peeta. We don't forget Gale and his bad ass-ness." The tension is gone as the boys chuckle and nod in agreement.

* * *

I can't let my fear show as I get Prim ready the next morning. I sit her on the bed and begin to braid her hair into pigtails. She didnt get any sleep last night and I can tell she's exhausted. We're both quiet as I stand over her, my fingers weaving strand after strand over and underneath each other. Her breathing is erratic as she digs her tiny fingernails into her thigh. She is shaking.

"It'll be okay, little duck," I murmur as I tie one braid off. I turn her to her other side as I begin on the next pigtail.

"Then why am I so afraid?" She barely whispers the words as a stray tear falls down her cheek. Her lower lip begins to quiver and she bites down on it.

"Come here, sweetie." I sigh and pull her close to me, smoothing down her hair. I rest my chin on top of her head as she begins to cry in my arms. Tears gather in my eyes as the helplessness settles in. I am powerless against the games. Powerless.

But I am strong, and I am stubborn.

I will always find a way when Prim is involved.

I pull her back to face me. "Little duck, I want you to listen to me. Nothing will happen to you. Ever. Your name is only in there once; it's impossible."

"Last year it was Jerrika's first time in the Reaping and she went," she whispers. "What if it's me this time?" I close my eyes, remembering the little brunette girl from last year. She wailed all the way to the stage and wailed until her last breath in the games when a boy from 8 cornered her with a club in hand.

Prim cried for days.

"Do you trust me?"

She closes her eyes as the tears run down her cheeks. She nods and I cup her face with my hands. She looks up at me. "I trust you." Her little arms wrap around me as she clutches the dress I'm borrowing from Mom today.

"Alright, then. Trust that it'll be okay. It will, Prim. I promise." I kiss her forehead as I pull out her outfit she will be wearing today. Our mother stands in the doorway watching us patiently as she looks down at her watch. She hasn't said a word all morning. We stalk towards her quietly as we stoop down to put our shoes on.

Mom leads the way as we walk out of the door towards the square. We walk, the three of us twitching in nervousness. Hoards of people surround us as we all walk together in an eerie silence filled with fear. As we approach the square Mom walks over to stand with the family members not in the Reaping this year.

The square is quite beautiful, sadly enough. If it weren't for the horrible memories this part of town possesses I'm sure many people from District 12 would visit it more often. Prim and I sign in as we separate to go to our designated roped off areas. The air is warm and dry and sky looks grey as I look around and see Madge and Delly from school standing in the corner, avoiding anyone's glances.

I look over to the boys side and see Gale standing towards the front of the group and Peeta standing somewhere towards the middle. Both are watching me and both somehow look calm and serene which I know is just a facade.

"It'll be okay," Peeta mouths to me. He gives me a small smile and nods. My eyes drift to Gale and he doesn't mouth anything. He just watches me, smiling softly. The smile doesn't reach his eyes though. His eyes widen and a flash of fear courses through them. His breathing accelerates, I can see that from here; I don't understand why, but then I hear the familiar sound we are all terrified of on this day every year.

The clock strikes two.

The chime rings through the square.

It's time.


	2. Chapter 2

My heart has somehow managed to stop beating and beat a thousand times faster at the same time. I look over my shoulder at Prim who has a look of pure terror on her face. I smile at her and give her a wink, giving her a small nod. She nods back, taking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly.

The mayor steps up to the podium on stage and reads the usual history of how the Hunger Games came to be. I roll my eyes and wait it out but find myself losing patience; I let out a long breath as the anger slowly builds within me, rolling inside like a thunderstorm.

I can't concentrate on anything right now.

I see Madge shift her weight out of the corner of my eye and I wonder what it's like to be the mayors daughter. Strangely enough, she's really a sweet girl. She's always been nothing but nice which some people are surprised at. She tends to keep to herself. But as privileged as they are, she still has a chance of getting her name pulled in the Reaping every year.

Just not as big of a chance as everyone else I know.

Someone coughs behind me, a hacking cough that has to hurt. It echoes through the square. I look down and pull off a lone thread hanging off my dress neckline. I hear a sniffle and my eyes flicker to the girl standing next to me. Tears are running down her face and no one's name has even been drawn. I glance down and see that her hands are shaking uncontrollably. I bite my lip and look away.

I hear a scuffle onstage and look up to see Haymitch Abernathy stumbling into his designated chair as the lone surviving victor of District 12. He's obviously drunk- his cheeks are flushed and he seems confused as to how he got onstage in the first place.

Effie Trinket is then introduced and steps up to the podium. She's her usual bubbly self as she beams at the group of children in front of her. "Happy Hunger Games!" The audience is silent as she waits for a reply. She gives a short nod and continues as if nothing happened. "May the odds be _ever_ in your favor!"

She adjusts her ridiculous pink hair and then starts talking about how she feels so honored to be here. I drown her words out in my head as my thoughts keep drifting away from the stage.

I stare at the girl in front of me. Her blonde hair is long and perfectly wavy, falling down in soft ringlets to the middle of her back. Her slim shoulders are relaxed as she watches the stage up ahead. I look down and see her hands clenched into fists, giving her away. My eyes drift back up to Effie.

She walks to the glass ball filled with the girls' names. "Ladies first!" Everyone stiffens and the crowd is silent. I feel sick and my breathing begins to accelerate. She walks back to the podium and watches the crowd for a moment smoothing out the slip of paper. My hands start shaking as I close my eyes waiting for her to announce the name. You could hear a pin drop, it's so quiet.

I can't breathe.

"Stella Sawyers!"

I exhale.

The girl in front of me stands up a little bit straighter and makes her way to the stage. She doesn't cry, she doesn't speak, she doesn't make eye contact. Her face looks hard, angry.

Determined.

She's the same age as me, but I haven't been in the same class with her for the last few years. I've seen her around town, though. She's popular, especially with the boys. Her long legs and clear green eyes can make most males stop and stare. She's always had a bit of an attitude but somehow finds a way to stay out of serious trouble. She stands strong and beautiful on stage as Effie puts a microphone in her face.

"Say hello to everyone, dear!"

She stares at Effie for a moment and her jaw clenches. "Get that thing out of my face." She knocks the microphone away from her, making the sound system squeal for a moment. We all wince as the noise invades our ears before it disappears.

Effie gasps and steps back. She shakes her head vigorously and turns away. "Manners, manners, young lady." The audience is silent again as Effie composes herself. She smiles at us again, clapping her hands, urging us to welcome Stella. We all clap quietly but hesitantly. Stella rolls her eyes and huffs.

The people at the Capitol aren't going to like her very much if she keeps up this attitude.

"Now for our lucky gentleman who will accompany Miss Stella," Effie says brightly. She steps in front of the crystal bowl again and digs her fingers around for a few seconds. As she makes her way back to the podium I glance over at Peeta and Gale again.

Gale stares straight ahead at the stage, his gaze unwavering, his hands in his pockets. Behind him, Peeta's eyes stare at the ground, his eyes a little bit wider than usual. He's biting his lip.

"I wonder who the lucky young man will be?" I hear the rustling of paper as she opens the small white slip holding someone's death sentence.

_Not them. Please, not them._

I close my eyes again as my heart starts to skyrocket in my chest.

"Peeta Mellark!"

_No_.

My heart drops down to my feet as the air escapes my lungs. The blood is drained from Peeta's face as he stands in shock for a moment in the crowd of boys. They all step away from him as if he is the plague and he watches them do it as if he is in a daze. His eyes flicker to mine as I bite my lip and shake my head.

_I'm so sorry_, I mouth to him. He shakes his head and gives me a half hearted smile that doesn't reach his eyes. He steps away from the crowd of people as he makes his way to the podium with our other tribute.

I glance at Gale. He hasn't moved since before she announced Peeta's name. He still stares forward, his hands in his pockets, his face unintelligible. He seems unmoved. I can't be angry at him for being relieved that his name wasn't called, but I feel angry anyways. _Can't he at least show some respect for his best friend whose name was just called? Show some emotion, anything_? I stare at him for a moment longer before looking at Peeta again.

Effie takes his hand and leads him to a place on the left of Stella. "Welcome, Peeta! Congratulations!" She turns and urges us to clap for him as we did for Stella. I don't move. I keep my hands at my sides as everyone else claps.

I will not clap for Peeta.

He deserves that much.

His eyes stay on mine as he's on stage. I hold his gaze, memorizing every line and every bit of him that I can. _Why him? Why Peeta? I need him_. Shock registers as I realize the thought that just crept through my head.

_I need Peeta._ I can't let him go. I can't. But I have to; I have no choice. I can't stop him from going into the games just as much as he can't stop himself from going into them.

He gives me another small smile as he watches me. I attempt to smile back at him but a lone tear down my cheek gives me away. His eyes soften and I see him let out a long shaky exhale. A bit of his ashy blonde hair has fallen onto his forehead. I wish I could run up there and brush it off but I know I can't.

The mayor steps up to the podium and delivers the speech about the Treaty of Treason. My thoughts drown out his voice as my eyes stay locked on Peeta's. I can feel Gale's eyes on me, but I don't care. I won't look away. I _can't_ look away.

His eyes leave mine as he turns away. He's shaking hands with Stella as the anthem of Panem plays. She watches him curiously and her eyes flicker in my direction. She looks me up and down and her lips curl up as she rolls her eyes. She smiles at Peeta. _What is that about?_ As soon as the anthem is over the two of them are taken into custody into the huge doors of the Justice Building.

* * *

I stand in my place as all around me chaos ensues. All of the children left behind flee to find their families, overjoyed that they have another year before the next Reaping. Another year left to live. The excitement in the air is unbearable and I stand there jealous of all the children who have another year left to live, myself included.

It's another year that Peeta may not have.

People are rushing into each others arms all around me as I stand there alone, still in shock. Prim knocks in to me, nearly knocking me over. She's crying hysterically and keeps wailing Peeta's name. I kneel down holding her shoulders.

"Go find Mom. I'll be home soon." She nods and runs away. A surge of adrenaline rushes through me as I rush forward toward the building, aching, desperate to have one final moment alone with Peeta. I feel a hand rip me backwards and I stumble, my balance thrown off. I rip myself away and turn to see Gale.

"_What are you doing_?" I hiss as I try to continue forward. Gale pulls me back again and pulls me against his chest in a forced embrace. I retaliate immediately and push myself away from him. I can see the hurt in his eyes as he watches me.

"Let him go, Katniss. It was his final wish. _Let him go_."

"Do you know what he's probably going through right now? He needs us, Gale."

"This isn't going to help anything."

I stare at him as my jaw drops in shock. "Are you kidding me?" I shove him backwards, hard, causing him to stumble. While he tries to get a grasp on his footing I find myself raising my voice. "He's not dead yet, Gale. What the _hell_ is wrong with you?" He opens his mouth and closes it. He walks backwards, then turns and walks away from me.

I shake my head and rush into the Justice Building. The tile floor reflects back at me, newly waxed, and the wooden walls feel as if theyre closing in on me. People are swarming everywhere and it's loud and disorienting. I stand in the middle of the lobby trying to figure out where to go when I'm stopped by a peacekeeper.

"What are you doing in here?" He narrows his eyes at me, eyeing me up and down. I pause to catch my breath and stand up straight. His eyes keep flickering down the hallway behind me.

"I'm trying to find one of the tributes. I just want to say goodbye."

"Which tribute are you here for?"

"Peeta," I whisper. "Peeta Mellark."

He points me down the hallway and I rush to find my best friend. I see Peeta's mother calmly sitting on a bench outside of one room. I slowly make my way towards her.

She looks up at me and then stares at the wall in front of her. She says nothing. She seems so apathetic right now, like she could literally not care any less that her son is about to leave to a probable death with a mere one in twenty four chance of survival.

I can't believe that she is wasting her precious last moments with Peeta out here waiting in a hallway. I blink a few times and sit next to her on the bench. We're both silent as I wait on his dad and brothers to come out. Finally, I have to ask her the question that's killing me.

"Why are you out here when you have so little time left with him?"

She narrows her eyes at me. "I don't see why that's any of your business, Katniss."

My jaw drops and I turn to stare at her. "Because he's probably terrified and you're not even _bothering_ to say goodbye."

"There's no point."

"You're his mother. He needs you now more than ever. This is your chance to make it better." I pause. "Maybe not perfect, but better."

She rolls her eyes and scoffs at me. "He's going to die, Katniss. Spare yourself the heartache and walk away now."

My blood runs cold as I stand to stare at her. I shake my head and bend over putting my face directly in front of hers. I hold her gaze for a few seconds before I say anything. Her cold blue eyes don't blink but I see her hands clench in her lap.

"He deserved so much better than you for his mother." I walk away and stand in front of the doors, waiting patiently. I turn my back to her so I don't have to see her disgusting face.

The door opens abruptly and I step back. His father and brothers come out wiping their eyes and sniffling. When his dad sees me, he puts a hand on my shoulder and pulls me into a tight embrace. "Go. Be with him." He kisses me on the cheek. "I'll see you soon, sweetheart."

Another tear runs down my cheek. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Mellark."

"I know, honey. I know."

I take a deep breath and pause in front of the door. I wipe my eyes and try to collect myself, smoothing out my dress and running my fingers through my hair. I grasp one of the wooden door knobs in my hand and quietly pull it open.

Peeta is sitting by the window in a chair. His head is in his hands and his chest is heaving. He looks so frail, so alone; it breaks my heart and I step inside, quietly closing the door behind me. It's obvious that he hasn't heard me when he doesn't look up. His breathing is labored as he continues to quietly sob to himself.

I walk over to him and place one hand on the nape of his neck causing him to jump in surprise. He lifts his head to look at me as I cradle his head in my hands. I kneel in front of him and pull him forward so that his forehead rests against mine. I can feel him exhale slowly but he still trembles in fear.

I weave my fingers with his. He pulls our hands up so they rest over his chest; I can feel his heartbeat, drumming wildly out of control. He buries his face into my neck, breathing me in, before he wraps his strong arms around me.

"Listen to me, Peeta." I pull back so he can look at me. "You can do this. You can." My hand lifts to cup his cheek. My thumb gently runs up and down his cheekbone. He covers my hand with his and brings them back down to rest in his lap.

"Katniss, I'm going to die. There's nothing I can do. I can't fight, I can't hunt. I bake; I paint. I mean, I can't exactly paint someone to death."

"Then find something to live for." I run a hand through his hair as he watches me with his big blue eyes. He closes them, pulling me close again, his strong arms wrapping around me so tight that I can't breathe.

"That's not going to be hard," he whispers.


	3. Chapter 3

I can hear the muffled sound of footsteps approaching from outside in the hallway. I know Peeta hears it at the same time when he immediately stands and pulls me up with him. All of a sudden the moment is rushed and the words start flying out.

"Katniss, listen to me for a second-"

"Peeta I'm so sorry," I babble as tears begin to fill my eyes. "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to help." My breathing is uneven as I pull him into an embrace, tightening my arms around him. I bury my face into the crook of his neck. I stand on my tip toes as his hands rest on the small of my back. His fingers grip the fabric of my shirt and I feel his body begin to tremor."I don't want to let you go," I whisper. "I don't want them to take you away."

He sighs into my hair. He lifts a hand up to twirl my braid in his fingers. "Seriously, I need to tell you something," he whispers.

I shake my head. We can't do this. No last minute goodbyes. I can't handle this. I can't handle leaving my best friend to walk away to his death and my mind is unraveling as I stand there falling apart in his arms. He pulls away and I whimper slightly, trying to pull him close to me again.

I know I'm acting like a silly girl. I know I'm being irrational. I know this completely out of character for myself.

I don't care.

He wraps his arms around me again and brushes my forehead with his lips. His hand reaches up to gently brush a tear away and he leans his forehead against mine. "Before we run out of time there's something you need to know, Katniss," he whispers.

An abrupt knock at the door sounds and we both turn at the noise, startled by the loudness of it. Peeta's eyes are filled with desperation as he stares into my eyes. His hand is shaking as he reaches up to cup my cheek. He leans in, and I can faintly hear the sound of the door opening over the roar of rushing blood in my ears.

I've never noticed how thick his blonde eyelashes are until this moment. I've never noticed how blue his irises are or how the sun has kissed his skin to a perfect golden color. I never noticed how he has a light scattering of freckles across his nose that are so light you can only see them when they're up close and personal.

I also never noticed how soft and smooth his lips are until they flicker into my line of view, only to disappear as they gently press against my mouth.

When he pulls away my eyes are still closed; when I open them his blue eyes are focused on me waiting for a reaction. Before I can even begin to process the fact that he just kissed me, a pair of rough hands rip me away.

The next thing I know, all hell breaks loose.

I reach out to him and our fingertips touch as a pair of strong arms try to pull me out of the room. Desperately I begin screaming and thrashing to try to get back to Peeta, if only for a moment. One gets clawed in the face and another gets a swift elbow to his stomach. More hands appear where the others fell off and again I'm restrained, fighting as hard as I can to get back to Peeta. I plead and beg with the peacekeepers but they ignore me; the doorway looms ahead but I refuse to stop fighting.

"Wait," Peeta calls out. His eyes never leave me as he begins pushing his way towards me. One peacekeeper pulls my arm roughly and I cry out in pain. Peeta's eyes flash in anger and he shoves a guard out of his way, coming closer. "Stop! Get your hands off of her!" He starts to fight his way towards me, his fists flying in all directions. His face is flushed as he lands a punch to one peacekeepers jaw and then explodes in my direction.

For a moment I truly believe that he'll be able to reach me. I truly believe that somehow we can stop these people from taking away my best friend.

I truly believe every bit of this until I feel a needle pierce the skin on the back of my arm.

The room starts spinning and everything goes black.

* * *

When I wake up, I'm lying on the bench outside of the room. I sit up, blinking a few times, and look around to gather my surroundings. The hallway is empty and eerily silent.

My arm is throbbing and I look down to inspect it, peeling back a band-aid to see a small red dot that is slightly raised. I gently press on it and wince, replacing the bandage. It's probably going to bruise. I never did take needles very well.

All at once my memories flood back and I gasp. I jump up and shove the huge wooden doors open running into the room holding Peeta, but he has already been taken away.

The room is empty.

My entire body starts shaking as I stand there alone. Oddly, only one thing comes to mind.

The room is cold.

I wrap my arms around myself trying to warm myself up. I slowly walk to the chair by the window that Peeta occupied just shortly before. I stare at it for a moment, not thinking, not moving, not breathing. My hand reaches out and I run my fingertips along the cool wooden back of it and I slowly sink down, leaning over to put my head in my hands.

I cry until the tears stop coming.

I cry until I go numb.

* * *

When I walk through my front door that night Prim runs into my arms sobbing. I stand there stiffly without saying a word, stroking her hair, soothing her. My mother stands in the bedroom doorway watching us with a saddened look shaking her head slightly. Her hand rests over her heart and she watches us uncomfortably, like she doesn't know what to do.

"What do we do?" Prim looks up at me with her big doe eyes and grasps my hand in hers. I give it a squeeze and cradle her head against my chest.

"There's nothing we can do but wait, little duck. Peeta is strong. He can do this," my voice cracks. I take in a deep breath, steadying myself. "We can do this. Everything will be okay."

"I wish I was as brave as you," Prim whispers. She wraps her arms around my midsection and pulls me tightly against her. "Peeta is brave too."

"Yes, he is," I murmur. "Come on, we have to watch the Reapings." I guide her to our couch and switch on the television as the show starts. She sits next to me and I pull her closer. Wrapping one arm around her, she leans into me, wiping her eyes. My mother sits on a chair and drags it so it faces the television.

The show starts at District one and works its way through to District twelve. The first few districts have volunteers, as is typical for them- they're prepared and trained since birth for the hunger games. They want to kill, and see it as a great honor to do so.

It's disgusting.

A girl named Glimmer is called from District one, as is a boy named Marvel. From District two comes a ruthless and huge boy named Cato who practically jumps to the stage in his excitement to volunteer. He smiles but his eyes show evil.

He terrifies me, and I'm not even a tribute.

The rest of the tributes fly by as I begin to lose concentration, waiting on Peeta to show up onscreen. One boy catches my eye, a boy from District ten. He limps onstage and is shy when prompted for his name and age. Eighteen years old. His name is Landrin.

A girl from District eleven, Rue, reminds me of Prim as she floats across stage. With chocolate skin and beautiful big doe eyes, she stands not even five feet tall. She gives me the chills. When her district escort prompts the crowd for a volunteer, everyone is silent.

When it's time for District twelve's reaping my heartbeat escalates as I remember what it was like this morning to see Peeta's name get called. To have to say goodbye to my best friend.

When his name is called, I look away from the screen, shutting my eyes. Prim squeezes my hand and I pull her tight to me, willing myself not to lose it again. When the camera focuses on Peeta onstage, I watch as he stares off into the crowd. His eyes never falter, nor do his eyes leave the subject he's staring at. Then I remember-

He's staring at _me_.

The camera swivels and focuses in on me in the midst of the crowd for a moment and I gasp, sitting on my couch, as it swivels back around to our tributes. It was only for a split second, but I've never seen that before. I've never seen the camera look away from the tributes once they're onstage, unless it's to focus on the officials who are also onstage.

I shake off my nerves and watch as Peeta is led offstage. We listen to a few more announcements and then turn the television off. We all sit in silence. Finally, I turn to Prim.

"You need to get to sleep." She protests until she looks up at me and sees my face. She groans and walks towards the bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind her. My mom stands up and brushes off her lap and walks over to sit on the couch next to me. I stiffen and tense up as I wait for her to say something.

"Are you sure you're alright?" She reaches a hand up to my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. "I'm here if you need me."

"It'll be fine."

She sighs. "That's not what I mean."

"Yeah, well, don't worry about me. I'm used to taking care of myself." Her face flashes in pain and I turn away from her and stand to slip on my shoes. I walk back out the front door, letting it slam behind me in the quiet of the night.

As I cross the front porch and leap down the steps I see Gale step out of the dark. I pause momentarily and then continue, rolling my eyes and shoving past him not slowing down as I turn around the corner of the house.

"Catnip, wait," he contests, following me around to the backyard. I ignore him and speed up my steps as I head to the tree, our tree, the one the three of us basically shared. It's the one place we could escape to within the fence- the one place we wouldn't be bothered.

"Go _away_, Gale." Too bad he isn't taking my hint. He's still following me and I stand beneath the mass of branches before taking a deep breath. I crouch down and jump up and grasp onto one of the stronger, thicker branches, pulling myself up to climb away from him. I climb higher and higher until he's still in earshot but out of direct reach. He stands awkwardly underneath me as I watch him in silence.

"Please, just hear me out."

"Hear you out? Hear you tell me to let Peeta go, even though he's not dead? Even though the games haven't even started?"

"No, that's not what I-"

"So if that would have been me up on stage, you would have just bailed on me too? I'm glad to know our _friendship _means that much to you."

"_Dammit_, Katniss, listen to yourself!" He hits the trunk of the tree and stares up at me. "Do you really think it was that easy for me to see his name get called? Because it wasn't."

"Oh, poor Gale. Go cry on someone else's shoulder. I'm sure it was so hard for you to hear his name get called. What about Peeta? What about him? I'm sure he would have liked to see you one last time, you know."

He groans loudly. "I wanted to go see him too, but there's no point."

"How is there no point? Why does everyone keep saying that? _God_," I spit out, disgusted.

"Who else said that?"

I'm silent for a moment. "His mom. She sat outside his room and didn't bother saying goodbye. She's a monster," I whisper. "Her own son, and she didn't even care. She was so cold. It was terrible."

"I'm not like her, Katniss." His voice is small as he calls up to me. "Please don't compare me to her." He pauses. "It's not that I've given up on him, I just meant... I mean... It just would have made it harder on him to see us crying and freaking out. It's not what he needed."

"What he needed was a friend." My words hang in the air.

"I messed up." I don't answer and he continues. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to." I let the words linger for a moment before I keep speaking. "You should go home, Gale," I mutter. "Give me some time. I'll find you."

He's silent as he stands underneath me. I turn my head and his eyes meet mine full of pain. He shakes his head. "I might be losing one of my best friends soon, Katniss. Please don't make me lose another." He watches me and then turns and walks towards his house, leaving me alone in the dark as I sit in my tree.

I lay there for awhile before I silently climb down back to the ground. I sit with my back against the trunk and stare up at the night sky.

It doesn't shine as bright now that I have no one to share it with.

I bite my lip and shake out my braid, running my fingers through the strands, and lean my head back as I breathe in the cool night air.

He's right. The last thing we should be doing right now is arguing, but I can't help being angry at him. Peeta and I trusted him, and as of right now I'm not sure I can do that anymore. What would have happened if it would have been me who was called? Would he have come to see me? Would Peeta?

I realize that he never asked once how Peeta was in the tribute waiting room. He never asked what he said in our last moments together. He never once asked about Peeta, period.

Speaking of Peeta- that _kiss_. Was it because I was the last girl he'd ever see in private or because of something else? That I know of, that was his first kiss. It was definately mine. It didn't seem forced at all on his part. I mean, he kissed me, and though it was sudden and over in a heartbeat, it was a sweet kiss, really. Tender. Light. Almost like he held back a little. I shake my head and let out a breath of air.

He has to come back to me.

* * *

**Hello, lovelies! A few things: if you've kept up with me since my last story, I LOVE YOU! Trust me, I know who you all are. I'm a creeper like that :] My readers mean everything to me, and thank you all for the encouraging reviews. **

**If you will all have patience with me you will definately find out how they became best friends. ****You will also find out the rule change- just not right now. I have to keep you all in suspense for awhile to keep you coming back, after all! Until next time... **


	4. Chapter 4

The next day I wake up early and get dressed. My shirt is a bit looser than usual to my dismay- probably a result of all of the stress from the last few days. As I'm slipping on my hunting boots I notice they have a new scuff on the toe and I bite my lip in annoyance. Rolling my eyes, I wrap up some of the meat from our last hunt and put it in my bag. Prim watches me at the kitchen table in her pajamas as I gather a few more things. She finally breaks the silence.

"Where are you going?" Her eyes follow my hands as they reach up to work my hair into a braid. She gives me a small timid smile. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

"I slept fine, little duck. Thanks for asking," I respond. I check the time and look back at her. "I'm going to take this to the Mellark house. Do you want to come? I'm sure they would like to see you today." It helps that Peeta's family is especially fond of Prim. But then, most people are. She lights up any room she walks in to.

The Mellark family could use a ray of sunshine today.

She nods eagerly and runs into the bedroom to get dressed. When she comes back out she wears a white shirt and a pair of pale blue shorts. She spins in a circle for me to inspect her and I nod, motioning to her shoes waiting by the front door. I go into the bedroom and find Mom sitting in her rocking chair by the window. In her hands is a book. She looks up at me as I knock on the door quietly.

"Prim and I will be back in a little while. We have a few errands to run."

She gives me a small smile and nods back at me. "Send them my apologies. I'm sure they could use the two of you today, sweetie."

"We'll be back in time for the Opening Ceremonies." I stare at the floor and then turn to leave. The tribute parade will be tonight. They usually dress the tributes in ridiculous costumes and parade them up and down The Capitol. They say it's so we can all get a first look at everyone, but I think it's just to make a fool out of them.

There is no telling what Peeta will have to go through today.

Prim and I walk in silence as we head towards the bakery where the Mellark family usually is. Their house is next door to it but majority of the time they're baking and cleaning or making new recipes to sell to people in District twelve. Usually Mr. Mellark is in the back baking things for the store. When Peeta works usually he helps his dad in morning and then stays with customers all day. He's great with people. His natural charm always has them leaving with a smile as they leave the bakery.

His brothers don't work very often- one is very active with the wrestling team at school and the other started college recently. Since Peeta is now a tribute, they both have come back to help out at the bakery. His mother, however, stays out of the bakery completely. She does paperwork and billing and everything not involving other people, which is for the best sometimes. She's terrible with people.

Even her own family.

Prim is quiet for the first few minutes as we walk. I can tell something is on her mind as I watch her. Her telltale sign of worry is biting her cheek- to the point where one side of her face is scrunched up, making her look a little bit like a lopsided chipmunk.

"Is everything alright today, little duck?" She shrugs and continues walking, saying nothing. I nudge her with my arm. "Seriously. What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong." She's quiet again but looks up at me, her eyes full of worry and sadness. She takes my hand in hers and walks closer to me. "Is it wrong that I'm happy you didn't get called?"

My mouth drops open. "No, of course it isn't. I'm happy you didn't get called, either. Why would you think that?" I give her hand a squeeze and pull her close, wrapping my arms around her small frame.

Her words are so quiet that they're almost a whisper. "Because ever since Peeta left I keep thinking about how happy I am that you're still here with me, and how happy I am that I didn't get called either. And then I remember that he got called and I get so sad. I'm sorry Katniss, I don't mean to. I'm sorry." A tear escapes down her cheek and she wipes it away. "I didn't want him to get called."

"Prim. Listen to me." She looks up. "Are you listening?" She nods. "Don't ever feel guilty for living. Don't ever take that for granted," I say, lifting one hand up to her cheek to wipe away another tear. "And be happy that the people you love get to live, too. Yes, Peeta got called, but nothing is guaranteed yet." My voice cracks a little. "Besides, he would want you to keep going without him. No matter what. He loves you, Prim."

She nods and wipes her eyes again. "I know. I guess I needed someone else to tell me that."

"I'll tell you that any time, little duck. Any time."

"I miss him already."

"Me too."

She scurries ahead to open the back door of the bakery that leads straight into the kitchen. We've known the Mellarks forever. Coming in the front door like strangers or customers would be completely out of the norm.

Mr. Mellark turns in surprise from his work station of kneading dough with his forearms covered in flour. His face is unshaven today and his hair is messy as usual, just like Peeta's. His face lights up when he sees us, but the happiness doesn't reach his eyes.

He looks exhausted.

He walks over to us, wrapping his huge arms around Prim and I both. We return the bear hug, breathing in the sweet scent of sugar and cinnamon as he pulls away to wash his hands at the sink.

"What brings the two of you in today?" He turns to face us as he wipes his hands off on his blue apron. "It's pretty early, isn't it?" He turns his head toward the clock and gives us a look.

"It's 9am. No big, Mr. Mellark." I pull my bag around to my front and dig inside for a few seconds, finding what I came to deliver. I pull out the wrapped meat and hand it over. "I thought you guys could use this. I know things are probably crazy right now."

His fingers touch mine as he reaches out to take the small bag. Nodding, he agrees with me. "I'd be lying if I said it wasn't crazy." He places a hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "Thank you, Katniss. This means a lot." He deposits the bag in the refrigerator. As he walks back to the dough he stretches his arms and rolls his neck.

"How have you been?" I pull out two stools from under the small island nestled in the center of the room and Prim and I take a seat as Mr. Mellark gets back to work. Prim reaches forward to sneak a dab of pink frosting from a container, but I slap her hand away before she gets a chance. I give her the dirtiest look I can muster and she gives me a sheepish smile, shrugging her shoulders.

"It's been quiet. Watching the Reapings wasn't easy on us last night," he confesses. "It looks like they may be some stiff competition this year. It wasn't much fun to have to endure that." His eyes flicker to me over his shoulder. "Neither was saying goodbye."

"No, it wasn't," I say quietly. Images of Peeta kissing me and peacekeepers dragging me out of the room come to mind and I shiver. I still haven't told anyone about the kiss. Or the needle. Or how I sat in that room afterwards and cried for an hour straight- not just tears trickling down my face, but hard, gasping, heaving sobs, the kind that leave you breathless with swollen eyes.

"Thank you for going to say goodbye to Peeta. I know that meant a lot to him. I'm surprised I didn't see Gale with you," he quietly mentions. Prim looks at me, questioning me with her eyes, but I shake my head at her and bite my lip.

"He left to go home. He took it pretty hard."

"We all did," Mr. Mellark says softly. His tone of voice is not condescending though; Peeta gets his kind nature from his father. He would never judge anyone, no matter what. I hear him sigh and he turns to pre-heat the oven. He takes the dough and covers it before sitting it on a rack to rise while he draws out another rack with dough that is ready to bake. He sits it on the counter while the oven heats up. He leans against the counter and looms up at the ceiling. His eyes look far away and unfocused; he sighs.

I look down and see Prim's tiny hand slowly reaching across the table towards the icing container again. I grab her hand and put it back in her lap, widening my eyes at her. "_Stop it_," I hiss. Mr. Mellark continues talking.

"You know, we could use an extra hand around here every once in awhile. I can't pay much, but would you girls be interested? You both are here often enough that you basically know how to do everything already." He gives us a warm smile. "Nothing too crazy, I really just need help back here in the mornings, and occasionally up front if we have any big orders," he says, his voice dropping a few decibels. "And I could use the company."

Prim looks at me with wide eyes and starts bobbing her head up and down. I grin and roll my eyes at her. "Sure, Mr. Mellark. I'm sure we can manage that, just let us know when."

Prim squeals and jumps into my lap, giving me a huge hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She turns to Mr. Mellark and claps her hands, sitting up straight in an effort to look more professional. "You won't regret this, Mr. Mellark. I'll be the best worker you've ever had." She nods to herself and clasps her hands together. I lock eyes with him and bite my lip trying not to laugh.

"Sweetheart, I'm more worried about Katniss than you. I'm not sure she can handle this place like you could." He looks at me and winks, chuckling.

"She'll try hard too," Prim says solemnly, not catching on to the joke. I laugh and stroke her hair as I pull the both of us to a stand.

"We'll let you get back to work," I murmur as I push both of our stools back under the island. "I know you must have a lot to do today. Let us know if you need anything, Mr. Mellark." He wraps the both of us in a hug and kisses us on the forehead as he turns back toward his station.

"When the peacekeepers come by today, let them know if they have any more questions I'll be happy to oblige." He smiles at us and looks down at the dough he's kneading. I stop in my tracks as my blood runs cold. _Questions? Peacekeepers? They usually don't ask questions after the tributes leave._

"When did they come by?"

"Last night. They asked a few things about Peeta. His hobbies, his friends, nothing too crazy," he says lightly. "It was a bit strange, but I guess it's almost like a background check. Maybe they're thinking Peeta has secrets to tell. I told them he doesn't."

"You said _when _they come by. Did they say they were coming to my house?"

"Honey, they're going to everyone's- Gale, Stella, I think even by the school for transcripts." He looks uncomfortable. "That's okay, isn't it? There's nothing he would have to hide, is there?" Worry flashes in his eyes as I put an end to that immediately.

"No, nothing like that, sir. It's just a bit odd is all. I've never heard of them questioning people close to tributes immediately after the Reaping; usually they wait till later in the games to do that."

"Maybe things are different this year."

"Maybe." I pause. "We'll see you later. Have a good afternoon, we'll be seeing you soon. Take care."

"Take care, Sweetheart."

* * *

Later that evening we gather around the television to watch the Opening Ceremonies where the tributes are officially introduced by District to the public via parade. The warm air is sticky which attributes to my bad mood as the show flickers on.

I've been nervous ever since Prim and I left the bakery this afternoon. I've been practically sitting on the edge of my seat waiting for peacekeepers to storm into my house bombarding me with questions. I know they'll ask about Peeta's kiss, but part of me wonders what other questions they may have. I have nothing to hide aside from the fact that we go outside of the fence, but we have always made sure to cover our trails completely.

Marvel and Glimmer appear onscreen first. Their chariot is pulled by gorgeous white horses and the two of them are decked out in silver and jewels. District one is known for their luxury items; they're always a favorite amongst sponsors. District two comes out and I already begin to lose interest. A small brunette girl smiles with a smug look on her face, as does her partner Cato. Both look ridiculous, wearing gold helmets with wings coming out the sides. After the rest of the Districts are presented, Peeta and Stella come out. I gasp when their faces flicker onto the screen.

Usually District twelve outfits involve anything from baggy jumpsuits to merely black powder coating the body. We're known for mining, and most designers are dismayed to find they're stuck with finding something new for us, which usually ends terribly. One year the tributes had to wear hats with headlamps. Real creative. This year, however, we're in for something more.

Both are wearing black unitards going from ankle to neck along with black leather boots. This isn't what is so astounding, however; it's the rest of the costume that makes me speechless. Black capes float behind them, drifting in the wind as their black horses lead their chariot forward. The capes are on fire. Literally. Fire encompasses them, giving them a smoldering demeanor that leaves everyone breathless. Firelight illuminates their faces.

The crowd is going wild for them.

Peeta easily holds more attention than Stella. He stands strong and brave, his shoulders back as he smiles and watches the crowd. He is instantly likeable, his personality shining through. He has never had a problem making new friends. I'm sure this will help him with sponsors.

Stella, however, looks bored and withdrawn. She doesn't smile, she doesn't wave, she doesn't even look menacing; she looks indifferent. Unless she has a hidden talent to show the game makers during her private session later on, her odds of surviving won't improve.

Part of me is happy that Peeta shines more than Stella, but part of me is worried that she has ulterior motives for looking so uninterested. One victor, Johanna, played the part of a terrified girl perfectly all the way into the games. Since she didn't appear to be a threat, the rest of the tributes ignored her. At least, they ignored her until she won her way through them with an axe in hand.

President Snow gives an official welcome speech before the cameras cut away to each individual district one last time. They all parade around the circle before they disappear behind the doors of the Training Center. The show cuts off as we all sit in silence for a moment.

"Peeta looked amazing," Prim admits quietly. She looks up at me. "Didn't he?" I smile. He did, in fact. He looked too perfect, though. Too put together. His hair was perfect and not falling in waves to his face and his skin glowed; he seemed ethereal. He also had no signs of flour or sugar on him, something that's out of character for him.

_I wonder if he still smells like sugar like he does at home_.

I stand to turn off the television and go to the windows to shut the blinds. It's not dark yet, but the sun is slowly going down over the horizon. I stare outside for a moment, wondering if Peeta is watching it where he is in the Capitol now. The sky fades from blue to purple to red to orange. It's beautiful.

My quiet moment of reverie is broken as a loud knock at the door brings me back to my senses. Already knowing what is ahead of me, I open the front door to find two peacekeepers waiting.

* * *

**Okay, loves, next chapter I promise you will get the backstory on the origin of Katniss, Gale and Peetas friendship. Are you ready for this?! **

**Also, thank you all for the sweet reviews! Please let me know what you think so far... And what do you think the rule change will be this year? ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

"Can I get you something to drink?"

Darius leans back in his chair and nods uncomfortably. His eyes don't meet mine as he glances at Azaiah who looks up at me and nods in answer to my question. I pour two glasses of water for them as I pull out a chair to sit down. Darius' red hair stands out in our dreary house and he runs a hand through it, clearing his throat. A light sheen of sweat dots his forehead. The night air is much warmer than usual tonight.

I'm surprised that Darius is one of the peacekeepers here to question me. I see him at the Hob occasionally; he's a happy go lucky guy and I considered him at the very least an acquaintance and more or so a friend; at least, as much of a friend as a peacekeeper can be. Right now he refuses to meet my eyes which lets me know he's feeling a little bit guilty that he's part of this inquisition. Azaiah is watching me as I gaze awkwardly between the two of them.

"How long have you known Peeta Mellark?" His voice is deep and low and menacing. His blue eyes stare me down, unwavering, and I meet them calmly with my own. My voice is low as I answer him.

"Since we were children." I pause. "Why are you guys questioning everyone so early? The games haven't even started."

"The gamemakers might be switching things up a bit this year."

My whole body goes still. "Switching things up how? What does that mean?"

"Frankly, it's none of your business," Azaiah replies coldly.

Fury ripples through me as I struggle to contain my anger. "Let me get this straight. _You_ come in to _my_ house to question _me_ about my _best friend_ and then you tell me that something that concerns him _isn't my business_?"

"You would do well to hold your tongue, Katniss," Darius murmurs. "Don't get yourself into trouble. Not over this. Just answer our questions and we'll leave." I clench my jaw. He looks at me through his red hair and glances back down at the table.

_Damn right, feel guilty. _

_You jackass_.

"How did the two of you meet?" Azaiah is again the one doing the questioning and I pause for a few moments.

"We met at his parents bakery. The rest is history." I'm not lying, but I'm not telling them everything. At least it won't come back to bite me in the ass later on.

"How well does Peeta get along with his family? Is he close to his brothers at all?"

My eyes narrow. "Not particularly. The older one is kind of a jerk and the middle one is never home because of wrestling with the school. Gale and I are probably closer to him than them." Azaiah nods and writes something down on his blue notepad he produces from a bag. I continue. "His father adores him. His mother is crazy."

He looks up and raises his eyebrows. "Why do you say that?"

I stare at a scratch on the table reaching from where my finger lies to underneath Darius' cup. "She's not exactly a people person, if you catch my drift."

Darius snickers. "It's true, Azaiah. Yesterday she just about shoved us out her front door after we told her we weren't there to bring her anything from the Capitol. I've never seen a mother so fast to sell out her own son. Poor kid."

"What are his hobbies?"

"Um," I stumble, "he likes art. You know, drawing, painting, stuff like that. He bakes, obviously. Other than that, he's usually with me and Gale Hawthorne."

"And what do the three of you usually do?"

My mind flickers back to the day before the Reaping, of the three of us hunting outside the fence. I bite my lip. "I don't know. We just hang out like regular teenagers."

"And how did the three of you become friends?"

I groan inwardly and sign. "Gale and I... Our fathers worked together so we met when we were young." I stare at them emptily. My head is starting to hurt. I take a sip of water from my glass and look towards the bedroom door where my mom and Prim are waiting behind patiently. I would give anything to switch places with them right now. "One day we were in town walking by the bakery and Peeta seemed lonely so we invited him to hang out with us. We've all been inseparable ever since."

In actuality, it's much deeper than that.

I was ten, Gale was twelve. We were on our way back to my house after a day in town and as we passed by the bakery Peeta sprawled out of the back door clutching his face. A red mark was already beginning to surface on his cheek and he stood there gasping for air for a few moments before he noticed Gale and I gaping at him from the sidewalk. He refused to make eye contact with us at first until we kept staring at him.

Typically people from the Seam and Townies don't associate with each other at all. Since Gale and I are literally from opposite sides of the track, it surprised me that the three of us were able to let each other in so easily. Seeing his disheveled hair and the bruise beginning to surface on his cheek, I immediately sympathized for him; to this day, I'm still not sure why. I had a feeling something would be different about him. I had a feeling he needed someone more than ever right in that moment. He and Gale were hesitant at first to befriend each other but it didn't take long to convince them.

That night we all sat under the old oak tree talking about everything and nothing, which started a tradition at would last in the years to come. Peeta told us about his mother and how she lost control of her temper- often. I'll never forget how small he was when he told us, how afraid and quiet he was.

I'll also never forget the day my father and Gale's father died in the mining explosion two years later, and how Peeta was one of the few who didn't shy away from us afterwards. On the contrary, actually; he spent more time with us during that period than at home with his family. I lost count of how many nights he was there to sit next to a silent Gale with a hand on his shoulder, letting his actions speak instead of his words. It was also during that time that I memorized all of the crevices and lines on Peeta's hands as he held mine.

When my mom fell into her depression, our family was hurting. We had a period where we hadn't eaten in days and I was getting desperate to provide food for everyone, knowing the burden was now on me. Without my having to say a word to Peeta, he showed up one day with a black eye and a basket full of bread. It was burnt, but it saved us. I never did tell him what that bread meant to us then. Or how afterwards, a dandelion appeared that let me know that one day everything would okay.

It's funny to me that our friendship began as Gale and I trying to help Peeta, but in the end he was the one that was there for us when we needed it most. That time period cemented our friendship forever. The three of us knew we would always be there for each other; that no matter what happened, we couldn't be separated.

Then I remember hearing Peeta's name called at the Reaping. My hands dig into my knees underneath the table. I focus back on the two men in front of me and clear my throat.

Azaiah narrows his eyes at me and clears his throat. "What would you say are Peeta's strengths and weaknesses?" His pen is held upright in his hand, waiting for for my answer so he can record it down to give to whomever he reports to. The tip of the pen has been chewed to the quick, a sign that maybe his cool outwards demeanor is just a facade.

"Pertaining to what?" If I have to do this interview, I'm going to make them work hard for it. The stubbornness inside of me smiles at them, faking sincerity.

Darius sighs and leans on one elbow, watching me. "You know what we mean, Katniss. The games. What would his strengths and weaknesses be in the games?" A lock of red hair falls onto his forehead and he sweeps it back up. His eyes flicker to Azaiah and back to me, waiting.

I pause for a long moment letting them wait in suspense. There's no way I'll tell them about any of his real weaknesses. That's not going to happen- anything that can hurt him in the games won't be revealed by me. He can't swim, and he's not very good at hunting, but he would excel at hand to hand combat from his strength. The true weakness he would have is his gentleness. I could never see him killing anyone, ever.

But then, the Hunger Games could change that.

"His weakness is that he works in a bakery." Darius and Azaiah look at me, eyebrows raised. "What? I mean, he bakes bread and cookies all day. How will that help him?" They don't have to know that lifting one hundred pound bags of flour is included in the job. They don't have to know anything. They remain silent as they wait for me to continue. "His strength is his personality. He's strong, emotionally. He can handle anything. He won't break easily," I reveal.

They sit in silence and Azaiah stares at me. "That's it?" His fists clench around his glass of water and he calms himself by taking a deep breath. He exhales slowly.

"Yepp."

"That's not going to help us much."

"That's all I've got, sorry." I sit with my hands in my lap. Azaiah's face is turning red as he grows angrier and angrier. He scribbles something down hastily in his little notebook and he turns the page. His face brightens slightly as he smiles down at something and looks back up at me.

"One last question, Katniss." My eyes narrow at him and my heartbeat picks up. I'm nervous all of a sudden. Whatever he has for his last question can't be good. He taps his pen twice against his notebook and grins. "How long have you and Peeta Mellark been in a relationship?"

I feel like the air has been knocked out of me as I stare at him incredulously. "What?!" I stumble for words but find myself speechless. My cheeks flush pink.

"When you and Peeta said goodbye, you shared a kiss, did you not?"

"How do you know that?"

"Don't be naive, Katniss. The Capitol had hidden cameras in the room," Darius mutters. "They saw everything."

"Well, if they saw everything, they would know that he kissed me. I wasn't exactly expecting it." This is not good. If the people at the Capitol think Peeta has a girlfriend, this could be bad news for getting him sponsors. "It was just a kiss goodbye. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Then why are you blushing?"

"I'm not blushing, I'm just hot." I hold his gaze as I calm my nervous breathing. Isn't it time for them to leave yet? How long do I have to sit here and answer their questions?

"They don't have air conditioning," Darius agrees. I watch both of them with narrowed eyes before sighing and asking them a question of my own.

"It's late. Are we done here yet?"

* * *

Five minutes after they leave another knock at the door sounds. I stomp one foot in annoyance and sigh as I make my way to the door. My eyes search for anything left behind but I see nothing. Confused, I open the door.

Gale stands in the doorway.

I bite my lip and grab a sweater as I step outside with him. I close the door softly so I don't disturb mom or Prim. I nod towards the backyard and Gale silently treks behind me. The warm night air is now turning cool as a breeze dances around us. I sit on the ground on our blanket and scoot over to make room for Gale.

We sit in an uncomfortable silence, neither of us looking at each other or saying anything for a few minutes. I watch Prim's goat, Lady, as she chews on grass behind our house. She lifts her head to look at us before quickly losing interest to return to her evening snack.

When Gale and I first brought her home, we weren't sure what to do or how to take care of her really. She was injured and none of us had much experience with goats to begin with. Prim was ecstatic, but I was worried at first that we were in over our heads.

It was Peeta who stepped in and taught all of us how to care for her. His kindness extended to everyone and everything, including animals. He was gentle with Lady and patient with all of us as he explained in detail how to milk her, how to bathe her wounds, and to let her come to us so we didn't scare her. Seeing Prim's face light up made all the work worth it in the end.

"What are you thinking about?" Gale's voice breaks into my stream of thought and I snap out of it, focusing on his face. His grey eyes search mine quietly as he patiently waits for an answer. His long legs are stretched out before him and he leans his weight back on his hands. I give him a small smile.

"The first week we brought Lady home. And how Peeta basically saved us from impending doom by helping us take care of her," I chuckle. I pull my knees up to my chest and rest my chin on my knees. His eyes flicker to Lady and he smiles, chuckling to himself.

"That week was ridiculous," he murmurs. Another moment of silence draws out between us and Gale picks at a few leaves on the ground. He's fidgety tonight, I can see that. I wait patiently. Gale will talk when he's ready.

Something seemed off tonight when I talked to Darius and Azaiah. I'm not sure what, exactly; but I felt like they were doing more digging than necessary. Part of me wonders if Gale feels the same way. I watch him as he runs a hand through his brown hair- his telltale sign of nervousness.

I shake my head. I can't stay mad at Gale for long, there's too much at stake and too much stress involved with everything right now. We need each other more than ever. We'll talk and get everything out in the open and we'll be fine.

I hope.

"I'm sorry, Katniss. I know I messed up and I know what I did was wrong, but at the time I honestly thought it was the best thing to do." I remain silent and he watches me, waiting to see if I'll answer. When he sees that I won't, he continues. "I love you and Peeta both. You know that. I would never purposely do something to hurt one of you. It kills me that I wasted my last moment with him doing nothing. I just sat at my house staring at a wall. I was stupid." He pauses. "I'm sorry."

I sigh and nod at him. "I know you're sorry, Gale. I'm just stubborn and I was angry. I still am, honestly, but I'll have to get over that sooner or later. But we'll be okay. I promise." I give him another small smile and watch him as he smiles back at me. "How did your interview with the peacekeepers go?"

He rolls his eyes. "It was awkward, of course. But it was short and sweet. They just wanted to know a few things is all."

"What did they ask you?"

"Little stuff. His strengths and weaknesses. How we met." His eyes flicker to me. "They asked a few things about you, Katniss." My eyebrows furrow together and I suck in a deep breath. "Nothing bad, but they were definitely intrigued by you."

"Yeah, they seemed a bit interested with me too."

"Like how?"

"I don't know, I just had a weird feeling the whole time. And apparently our goodbye was a bit out of character for us too." Crap. I didn't mean to say anything to Gale about that. _Crap_.

He raises an eyebrow. "Out of character how?" He turns toward me. "What happened?" He knows there's something I'm not telling him, but I'm not sure I'm ready to talk to anyone about the kiss. Although I'm not sure what it meant to Peeta, it seems too private to share with anyone else, even if it is Gale.

"Nothing," I reply sharply. "It was just a bit intense is all. It's not easy saying goodbye to your friend before the Hunger Games, you know."

"Katniss..." His grey eyes are narrowed and he stares at me. I don't meet his them; I look everywhere but at him. I play with my braid as I take a deep breath in and exhale it out. He nudges me with his shoulder. I bite my lip and let it out, my voice almost in audible over the chirping of crickets around us.

"They drugged me when I left. They literally dragged me out of the room and shot me up with some drug that knocked me out. I woke up on a bench after they took him away."

His shoulders shrink down and his body goes still. "They drugged you? Is that even allowed?"

"I did put up a bit of a fight, Gale. So did Peeta." I remember him exploding in my direction before everything went black and I shudder. "It was terrible." I lightly touch the spot on my arm where the needle was injected. True to form, when I woke up this morning I had a massive blue bruise. Needles hate me for some reason.

"Something about this year feels different. Not just because Peeta was reaped, though. I can't put my finger on it. The interrogations, the timing... Something isn't right."

"Azaiah told me earlier that the gamemakers are changing things up this year. When I asked him how they shut me down immediately. Darius basically told me if I questioned them I'd be in trouble. They're planning something, Gale. Something big."

"What do you think it is?"

"I don't know, but I intend to find out."

* * *

**There you have it ladies and gentlemen- how the trio came to be. Hope you enjoyed it! ****It's going to start getting interesting soon, so get ready... ;) **


	6. Chapter 6

Warm sunlight pours in through the bedroom window and I pull my blanket up to cover my face. I can hear Prim's heavy breathing next to me as I try to drift back to sleep. Instead, I hear banging.

Loud banging.

Loud banging on our front door.

What the hell?

I lift my head from beneath my blanket and look over at Mom but she's nowhere to be found. I wait for her to answer the door but instead it persists. It begins to get unbelievably louder. Is that even possible? Prim whines next to me and I sit up huffing out a breath of air in annoyance. Obviously I get to answer the door today.

Joy.

I swing my legs over the bed and Buttercup hisses at me when one foot lands on his paw. I nudge his body out of the way and rest my feet on the cool floor. I stretch my arms and yawn before I stand. As I pass the bathroom, I hear the sound of running water. No wonder she didn't answer the door. She must not have heard it.

The person knocking at the door is either extremely persistent, thus making them extremely annoying, or they're extremely pissed off, which isn't much better. I look at the clock on the wall and it reads 6:30am.

To be up this early is unnatural.

I reach for the cold wooden doorknob and another knock vibrates through the door, making me jump almost a foot in the air. I make a loud noise of annoyance and thrust the door open to find Azaiah standing in front of me with a cold sneer on his face. A plethora of emotions run through me as I try to figure out what he's doing at my doorstep. Just three days ago he was sitting at my kitchen table interrogating me.

Since then I've been doing everything in my power to get Darius to spill the beans but he refuses to say even a word to me. He won't we contact with me which makes me nervous. By the last day I gave up on trying to get him to talk; my plans were to go to Peeta's Dad today to snoop, but it looks like Azaiah might be holding me hostage in my own house today. He doesn't move or say a word. Our eyes refuse to drop from each others and my heart is pounding as I stare at him.

We both stand there in silence for a few seconds before he shoves past me into the house. I stand in the doorway speechless as I turn around slowly.

"I'm sorry, is there something I can help you with?"

He turns to face me, his brown hair glinting in the light. "As a matter of fact, there is. Change your clothes so that you're more presentable. You're going to the Capitol."

"What?"

"Did I stutter?"

"I don't understand," I bark at him. "Why?" His face is cold as he continues to shake his head at me, refusing to answer any questions of mine. He seems impatient and nervous as he watches me.

"What's going on out here?" Prim rubs her eyes as she stands in the bedroom doorway watching us. We all stop for a second before I start shrieking at Azaiah. I can feel Prims eyes watching us and I look at her out of the corner of my eye when I see a tear making a pathway down her cheek. I pull her towards me gently.

"It'll be okay, Prim. Shhhhh." She clutches to my waist and I wrap my arms around her smoothing out her bed hair. I look down at her and smile, trying to be strong; I try to hide my fear. She deserves that much.

I stare at Azaiah for a moment and sigh. Theres no use in arguing with him if he won't tell me anything. I walk into my bedroom looking for something to wear. Mom and Prim follow me soundlessly. Prim sits on the bed with her hands in her lap. My Mom watches me from the doorway for a moment before hurrying out of the room and reappears moments later carrying the dress I wore for the Reaping.

It's only fitting, I guess.

It feels like the Reaping all over again.

Slowly, I peel off my sleep shirt over my head. I carefully fold it into a neat square and set it carefully on my bed. Prim watches me with tears streaming down her face but I can't look at her; I know one look will send me off the deep end, and I can't let myself do that to her. I have to stay strong. I slip on the dress over my head and stand to look at myself in the mirror.

I'm glad I took a bath last night instead of waiting for today.

Mom braids my hair and pins it up for me silently. My hands are clenched at my sides as I watch her in the mirror behind me. I speak slowly but quietly so that Prim can't hear me.

"You have to be strong for her, Mom."

She gives me a small smile and nods, not meeting my eyes.

"I mean it. I don't know what's going on or how long I'll be gone," I say, my voice cracking. "Peeta is already in the Capitol. I need for you to be strong. Not for yourself, but for Prim. She needs you now more than ever."

"I promise," she whispers. I look up and see a single tear making a path down her cheek. She wipes it away quickly. My eyes flicker to Prim, who picks up Buttercup. He meows loudly but doesn't hiss. The warm air is seeping in through our window and a breeze drifts in and brushes against my cheeks.

As I walk back to meet Azaiah he sits comfortably on our couch with one foot propped up on our coffee table. Anger boils within me at his nonchalant behavior.

"Get your filthy feet off of our table," I hiss. His head snaps up and his feet drop to the floor. His gaze darkens as I stare at him. My fists clench together. "I'm ready to go."

"No!" Prim wails and runs to me, tears streaming down her face. Her cheeks are flushed and her hair a wild mess as her fingernails dig into my waistline. I take deep breaths to steady myself and kneel down to face her.

"Everything will be okay, little duck. Go tell Mr. Mellark what happened. If you need anything, you go to him or you go to Hazelle. I love you. Be strong." I kiss her on the cheek as my voice cracks again. I bury my face in her neck, wrapping my arms around her tiny frame.

"Come back home to me, Katniss," she whispers. She sniffles quietly and plays with my hair. I can feel her body shaking. "I love you."

"I love you too, little duck." I turn to my Mom and give her a hug. She stares at me blankly but wraps an arm around Prim's shoulders. She nods at me and I open the front door to an unknown and terrifying future that is waiting on me.

* * *

When I step into our cabin on the train later that morning Gale is already seated by the window. We both gasp when we see each other. He jumps to his feet and I gladly run into his arms, which will most likely be the only familiar thing I know for whatever is coming up. They tighten around me when two boys come into our cabin.

The four of us stand facing each other awkwardly when a woman walks in to the room behind us. It's obvious that she's from the Capitol; her pale skin has bright pink blush on her cheeks, her lips are painted neon purple and her teal lashes extend out to her cheekbones. Her hair is long and straight, but the roots are blue and extend out to a neon yellow color at the tips. Her purple dress has a huge puffy skirt and is followed by heels so high I don't know how she can walk in them.

She looks like a coloring book threw up on her.

She smiles and claps her hands loudly, making the four of us jump. "Hello, everyone! How are we today?"

"Tired," one boy mutters. He shakes his head, whipping his caramel bronze hair out of his face. His blue eyes are so dark they look black. He wrestles with Peeta's brother on the school team; this is the only reason I know his face. Peeta has mentioned a few times that he was the rowdy one on the team, the one who always got in trouble at meets for picking fights with other teams.

This will be an interesting train ride.

"Ready to know why the hell we're here is more like it," the other mutters. He is the spitting image of his Stella. Tall and lean, his short spiky blonde hair is the same hue as hers. His bright green eyes flash in anger towards the woman in front of us and he walks over to a chair and plops himself down.

"I can't tell you all of the details, now, can I? Where is the surprise in that? My name is Sage, and so far I don't know any of your names. Please, please, enlighten me," she requests. Gale makes eye contact with me and rolls his eyes.

"Gale," he mutters.

"And which tribute are you here for?"

His eyebrows furrow at her. "I'm not sure what you mean by 'here for,' but I know Peeta. We're best friends." He stares down at the ground and I speak up next.

"Katniss. The other best friend of Peeta's." Sage nods her head eagerly at me before waving her hands at the boys who now remain silent.

The one who looks like Stella speaks next. "Brylen," he mutters. "Stella is my sister." He chews on the inside of his lip and looks up at Sage. "I'm not particularly happy to be here, honestly."

Sage nods enthusiastically. "You'll find out why you're here soon enough, Brylen," she says cheerfully. She clasps her hands in front of her and smiles at him. "Are you the older or younger sibling?"

"Older."

He offers no more words and Sage gives him a curt nod before looking at the last boy. He stares at her menacingly before resting his gaze on Gale and I. His eyes travels over Gale for a moment before looking at me up and down slowly. I feel my cheeks flush before I feel Gale take a small step closer to me. Seeing this, he sneers and rolls his eyes.

"My name is Axel. Friend of Stella's. Very close friend." He walks over to sit next to Brylen. He props his feet up on the chair in front of him that faces him and watches the three of us who are still standing. His blue black eyes don't blink and are unwavering in their intimidation.

We all remain in an uncomfortable silence for a few beats longer than necessary. I raise my eyebrows at Gale and he grins at me, shaking his head. Sage huffs out a breath of air and clears her throat loudly. She guides me and Gale to the seats and I wait in front of Axel for him to lower his legs, but he doesn't.

"Can you lower your feet?"

"I'm actually really comfortable." He stretches out ever further and yawns, resting his hands behind his head. His hair falls forward onto his cheek and I resist the urge to find the nearest pair of scissors to hack it off his head. He brushes it aside nonchalantly and watches me with a cocky smirk.

"Move your feet, Axel," Gale says. He takes a step closer to him and towers over his set. Axel looks up and rolls his eyes before finally dropping his legs for us to pass him. I sink down into a seat and cross my arms.

Sage begins filling us in on what's to come- at least, the details she is allowed to tell us. "We should get to the Capitol tomorrow morning. Tonight we will have dinner together and then watch the scores for the tributes from their private sessions with the gamemakers. Tomorrow morning we will have breakfast and arrive at the Capitol where you will be shown around. You will be very busy for the next few days. Please try to enjoy it instead of complaining like a bunch of sourpusses."

Axel rolls his eyes and turns in his seat to face Sage fully. "Is that seriously all we get to find out? Will we get to see Stella? Is there a reason we're being carted off to the Capitol against our will, or is this just a fun trip for us where we get to see 23 people die? Because if that's the case, I'm out."

Stella flushes for a moment before rolling her eyes at Axel. "I can tell already you and I will not get along."

"Damn straight we're not."

She turns and leaves the room leaving the four of us to sit in our own thoughts. I finally take a moment to look around at our surroundings. The cabin is roomy, and nicer than any house I've ever seen in district 12. The floor is carpeted with a soft blue shaggy material and the tables are lacquered mahogany. Silver dishes full of lavish food are set up, as well as crystal glasses and silver candle holders. Even the seats we sit on are cushioned perfectly and mold around your body as if it's memorizing your every shape and contour.

Here we are living lavishly and getting spoiled while my family is back home lucky to even get a bite of food while I'm gone. Gale makes eye contact with me but quickly looks away. His eyes flicker over to the food and then out the window. I see his chest rise and fall with a heaviness I'm familiar with.

Obviously he feels as guilty as I do.

Axel and Brylen have already made their way over to the table of food and are stuffing their faces. Fruit and sweets disappear into their mouths and crumbs fall to the table. I shake my head in disgust and turn away. I'll eat when it's necessary, not to gorge myself.

Later that evening we all sit together around the table eating dinner as Sage pesters us with meaningless chatter. A bowl of some sort of creamy orange soup sits in front of me and I bend forward to sniff it. It smells heavenly of course. How could it not?

"Butternut squash," Sage says.

Butternut? I don't even want to know.

I tentatively touch my spoon to the soup and sip at it gingerly careful not to burn myself. It's creamy and has some kind of spices I'm not familiar with; it's delicious. I look over at Gale and he's slowly eating it as well, just like me. He nods after tasting it and continues to enjoy it, making sure not to waste a drop. Meanwhile, the other two boys are eating it straight out of the bowl, tipping the end into their mouths. Sage clucks her tongue and dips her spoon daintily as she continues talking.

I look around for a cup of water to drink but only find a cup with a brown liquid inside that has bubbles. I sip from it and choke; it burns my throat going down. I wipe my mouth with a napkin and with wide eyes look at Sage in confusion.

"Soda. You've never had it? Sometimes our tributes are a bit shocked when they have it for the first time. They say the carbonation burns their throats."

I have no idea what she's talking about, but I push the glass away from me and dab at my mouth again. A salad appears before me, followed by some cut of fish resting on top of a mound of rice. Fruit appears afterwards, as well as a cheese tart; lastly, an overly sweet red velvet cake with loads of nuts and cream cheese. By the time we're finished my belly is feeling queasy and Gale's face looks a little green. The boys look about ten times worse than us.

Sage takes us to a new compartment to watch the tribute scores from the private sessions with the gamemakers. I settle down next to Gale on a plush red couch and he wraps one arm around me to pull me closer. Sage raises one eyebrow at me and I ignore her look, sitting up a bit straighter so that I'm still in direct contact with Gale but not as intimately. He looks down at me and I see a slight frown appear across his face. It disappears just as quickly as it appeared.

I stretch out my legs on the ottoman in front of us and groan. I have never felt this disgustingly full in my entire life. Ugh.

Music begins to play and the screen flickers on as the faces of the tributes appear with numbers beside their faces. The careers naturally get scores ranging from 8 to 10. The boy with the limp gets a 4 and the little girl from eleven scores an 7.

When it's time for district twelve's scores, Gale takes my hand in his. He gives it a gentle squeeze as we both wait in silence.

Stella scores an 8.

Axel and Brylen whoop and cheer. Their loudness makes me flinch and Gale takes that as a cue to pull me closer. I sigh in mild annoyance but don't pull away. Physical contact still annoys me occasionally, but I'm used to Gale doing this. It never really bothers me when Peeta does it though. I'm not sure why.

Peeta's face flashes on the screen and his blonde hair is a bit unkempt in the photo like it usually is. I smile quietly to myself. Im glad to know that wven through everything so far, theres still a part of Peeta I will always be familiar with. I suck in a deep breath of air as I wait for his score to appear.

He scores an 8.

Gales squeezes my hand and we both silently give each other bear hugs. An 8 isn't perfect, but it isn't all too shabby either. Stella got the same score, so she's no bigger threat than Peeta. This means she is defeatable. This means Peeta has a chance to beat her.

Axel and Brylen shoot us glares from across the room.

I smile back.

* * *

That night I don't get a wink of sleep. I toss and turn all night, I shift my weight over and over, and my pillow is never quite flat enough for me. The huge pillow strains my neck and finally I chuck it to the floor in annoyance. I sit up in bed and pull the sheets back to make my way to the window on the opposite side of the room. I make myself comfortable in a chair and pull a lever back to recline as I watch the trees flash by in front of me.

Small city lights flicker in the distance. Part of me wonders if the families and friends of the tributes are sleeping right now or if they're like me, restless and scared and terrified for them.

I wonder to myself if we'll get a chance to see Peeta before the Games begin. We get to the Capitol tomorrow and the next day are the interviews with Caesar Flickerman. The next day, the Hunger Games begin.

We don't have enough time.

Peeta doesn't have enough time.

If only time could speak. If only time could calm our worries with the truth it knows. How long does Peeta have left to live? Days? Weeks? Years? How long will we have with him, if any?

Morning light warms my face as I hear Sage calling me through the bedroom door. I sit up and look around; apparently I fell asleep while I was city watching last night. I pull my blanket around my shoulders as I stand and stretch my arms. Mid stretch, I stop and freeze.

Today we arrive at the Capitol.

Today I might see Peeta.

Today I might find out why we're here.

Today, everything can change.


	7. Chapter 7

Breakfast is like a repeat of our dinner last night. Everything is rich and heavy and delicious and most of the things are foreign to me- like the hot chocolate, which I can't seem to get enough of. I tear up sugar coated donuts and omelets and eat enough fruit to make the tip of my tongue burn a little from all of the acid. When I finally come up for air I remember how angry at myself I was last night and place my fork down on the table to force myself to stop.

Axel and Brylen, of course, eat like there's no tomorrow. Gale eats for a bit longer than I do but does it like last night- slowly, as if to enjoy himself instead of gorging himself. At one point Axel drops a strawberry and cheese danish and snatches it up before its on the ground for a second, stuffing it in his mouth. Sage stares at him for a moment open mouthed until she shudders.

"Slow down, its not like you'll starve."

Upon waking up we all found that Sage is definitely not a morning person. She's snappy and basically the exact opposite of her normal self. Right now she has a huge cup of black coffee in front of her which she fills with plenty of sugar and cream. Gale and I watch her as she adds one last shot of red liquid. Our eyebrows raise in question.

"Raspberry. To mask the taste," she murmurs when she mixes everything together. She carefully lifts the hot mug up to her face and blows on it before taking a huge gulp. Within seconds she sits up straighter and smiles more.

Huh.

I guess everyone has their weakness. Who would have thought?

"Will we get to see Stella and Peeta today?" My voice rings through the room a bit louder than I meant for it to. Everyone looks up at the exact same moment and looks at Sage expectantly. She stares at her cup of coffee for a moment and fidgets uncomfortably before looking up with a small smile.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. The tributes have a lot to do today, my dears. As do you."

"Such as?"

Sage smiles. "You'll find out soon enough."

* * *

"You're going to do what to my skin?" I jerk my head back violently in an effort trip my face away from the person standing in front of me.

"Come on, come on, trust me," Prat giggles. He motions me forward with his hands, gently reaching out to pull me forward. On the fingertips of his right gloved hand is a green gritty looking cream. "All it is is an exfoliator. It gets all the dead skin off of you! Afterwards your cheeks will feel like a newborns bottom."

"Maybe I don't know if I want to have the face of a childs butt."

"Shush. Just let me do my job, honey." He gives me a warm smile and waves me forward again. Huffing out a breath of air I willingly oblige. His fingertips softly graze my face in repeating circular motions. Surprisingly, it feels kind of good; almost like rubbing milk and honey mixed with sugar or something. It smells good, too. Maybe I should stop complaining. Prat seems to know what he's doing.

I watch him as he works diligently. He picks up new creams and tools as he scrubs and exfoliates and buffs my body from head to toe along with removing any and all body hair I have. His olive skin shimmers under the light on top of the table.

Upon meeting me he said he used to be an understudy a while back for someone named Cinna but got promoted recently. Compared to everyone I've seen so far his looks are much more plain, but he said that's because Cinna taught him that sometimes simple is better.

His dark hair is about ear length and is swept to one side; his eyes are darkened and smolder with black eyeliner, adding to the mysterious look. He wears a simple white shirt and a pair of black pants. It contrasts sharply with his bubbly personality until I see him around the other stylists; he easily takes control and gives out instructions with ease. Instead of them resenting him, however, they respect him. No one ever seems afraid of him.

He's loved here. It's obvious even to me.

When he plucks and waxes me I give him dirty looks but I don't complain because he gives me sympathetic glances while doing it. Every once in a while he pauses so I can massage the skin where the hair once grew, rubbing the pain away.

"Tell me about Peeta," he says as he pulls a brush through my unruly hair. He picks up a pair of scissors and a comb. Before I can say anything, he chuckles and rests a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry. I'm not cutting all of your hair off. I'm just taking away the split ends; it'll make your hair grow faster, actually." I nod and he continues. "So, Peeta..."

I smile up at him. "He's my best friend. I've known him since we were kids."

"Has that ever, you know, crossed into different territory?"

My eyebrows furrow. "What do you mean?"

"You know," he winks at me, "different territory." I stare at him open mouthed and confused until he finally steps back and slaps my arm playfully. "Katniss. Have you ever tapped that?" My jaw drops and I am literally speechless as he clucks his tongue at me and shakes his head. "Don't look at me like that. That boy is beautiful and you know it. Don't tell me you've never ever thought of him like that before because I can tell a lie a mile away."

My cheeks burn and I dip my head down to avoid his stare. "I don't know." He raises an eyebrow at me and taps his toes impatiently. "Right after the Reaping he kissed me before he left," I whisper. Prat gives me a small smile and touches my arm softly with his glove-free hand. "I never really thought about it until that day, and things have been crazy since then. I haven't really had much time to think."

"Well don't worry Katniss," Prat says as he places the shears down and brushes my hair out again, "your secret is safe with me." He pulls me up and lifts my arms to take my measurements. "Now if only I could figure out what outfit to put you in..."

* * *

"Shut up," Gale mutters when I walk into the common room for the four of us visiting from district 12. My jaw drops for the second time today and I give him a smile. "Seriously Catnip, don't mess with me right now. It's not funny."

"You're blonde." I reach up and run my hand through his hair which has been trimmed and bleached making him look sun kissed. It's not a bad look for him, not by any means, but it's not Gale. His lips are pursed and he seems extremely uncomfortable as I giggle lightly. "Aw, come on, the girls will love it." He looks down at me and his eyes soften slightly.

He combs his fingers through my hair, which Prat left down. "I like your hair like this. You don't wear it like this enough." He pulls his hand away and plops down on a couch that spans the width of the whole room. In the middle is a huge coffee table piled high in snacks. He reaches down and munches on a carrot stick. "What did they do to you? You look the same. So not fair."

I plop down next to him. "Let's just say I got a lot of hair removed today. And it was painful." Gale winces. "And Prat put some kind of gunk in my hair so that when I take a shower I literally don't have to do anything to it. He washed it today and it came out like this. He knows I'm a no fuss kind of person." My hair spirals down in perfect beachy waves instead of the unruly mess it usually is in. I lightly touch a curl and release it.

"Sounds like you enjoyed your time with your guy," he mutters. "The girl I was with did nothing but poke and prod at me and laugh. It was humiliating." He leans forward for another carrot stick. "This is what I don't like. Bring us here, fine, whatever. But why are we getting make overs? What's the importance of us that makes it so vital we're beautiful for the public? Something isn't right, Catnip."

"Damn straight it's not right," Axel calls as he walks into the room. He looks pissed as ever as he sprawls out on the couch next to Gale. Brylen walks in after him and sits on the other side of him and sits quietly. Both look like they've been through hell. Brylen pretty much looks the same but now he's clean shaven. Axel, on the other hand, is another story completely.

His once shaggy hair is now close cropped and spiked up a little at the top like a Mohawk, but not shaved. I think they call it a faux hawk? They added highlights and shaved him perfectly as well. "They took my hair," he whines. "I liked my hair. I've been growing it out for so long."

Gale and I look at each other and we're done. We both burst out laughing, the kind of laugh that makes your tummy hurt and your cheeks go numb. The boys glare at us but instead of calming us down it only ignites the fire more. Tears run down my face at the ridiculousness of everything the last few days. Maybe it's just stress trying to let itself out, I'm not sure. But I know that in this moment, I feel like nothing can touch us. Nothing can hurt us.

A loud buzzing resonates through the room and we all fall silent. It crackles loudly and then squeals and I wince in annoyance. Sage silently walks into the room and stands in the front next to a huge television screen built into the wall, watching us, waiting.

In that moment I know we're about to find out why we're here.

I sink down in my seat on the couch and the others patiently sit up straighter. A stern voice speaks over the intercom.

"Attention. All guests please report to your Suite. Again, all guests, please report to your you." The buzzing flickers again and then disappears.

I look at Gale in confusion. "Guests? Do they not want the tributes to know we're here?" He shrugs at me and turns his attention to Sage. Her hair is curly today and she wears a blood red poufy skirted dress. Today she doesn't wear heels; no, she wears a pair of golden flat ballet slippers with pointy toes that curl up like elf shoes.

I will never get used to her outfits.

The television flickers on and it's brighter and more crisp than any screen I have ever seen. The colors are bright and vivid and almost look three dimensional. A man with a crazy beard appears on the screen and his name flickers at the bottom of the screen: Seneca Crane.

"Good evening, everyone. My name is Seneca Crane and this year I am the head game maker for The Hunger Games. I do hope you've been enjoying your stay here at the Capitol so far," he says, clearing his throat. He smiles into the camera but it doesn't reach his eyes. "I'm sure you've been wondering what you're here for, and I assure you, you will be informed of that. Before I fill you all in on this, you need to know your schedule for tomorrow. It will be quite hectic.  
Tomorrow morning you will wake up and have breakfast with your designated officials standing in front of you," he says, pausing. We all look at Sage and she smiles. "After breakfast you will all have group lessons on interviewing and public personas. As this may be lengthy, you will also be provided with a catered lunch. The tributes will have their interviews tomorrow with Caesar Flickerman, and after your respective tribute finishes their turn you will take the stage with the person who also knows your tribute in a joined interview. Don't worry though, your interview won't be as long as your tributes. Please don't be nervous, this will be fun!" His eyes sparkle and I groan inwardly.

Public speaking has never been my forte.

"After the interviews you will all go back to your chambers and get to have one last time to say goodbye to your tributes." He pauses for a long time to let his words sink in. My heart flies and I feel a hand slipping into mine. I look over at Gale who has a look of awe on his face. Crane continues.

"As of right now, it has been a secret that all of you are here. We wanted to reward our tributes this year as a token of our gratitude and give them one last moment with their loved ones. If you are here, we have determined that you are an integral and vital part of your tributes life. You are loved and valued by your tribute and we have determined that providing one last goodbye will make them appreciate the goal of winning the Games: coming home to you."

I snort. Yeah right. You mean it'll make them more vicious during the Games and give everyone a better show.

"Please do not take this last goodbye for granted. As I'm sure all of you know, this has never been granted for any tribute before, let alone all twenty four tributes. You all have more time with your tributes than ever before as well. Since we took the time to bring you here we decided to 'Go big or go home;' that is, instead of minutes alone you will get an hour each with your tribute."

An hour. I get an hour with Peeta. Alone.

This is so much more than I hoped for.

"Think of this trip to the Capitol as a gift from us game makers. When the Games begin, you will have the honor of staying here to watch the Games if you wish. We will provide the same living arrangements you have now as well as food and anything else you desire. You will get to have communication with the mentors of your district and get firsthand knowledge before anyone else does. Think of this as a Hunger Games Vacation, if you will.

Once the Games begin, you can stay here or you can go back home to watch it with your loved ones in your own district; it's your prerogative. We will not keep you here against your will. Once you leave, you cannot return during the duration of the Games. We understand if you wish to be at home watching the Games as opposed to here in the Capitol, but we will not grant second chances for those that decide they want to come back.

If you choose to stay here during the Hunger Games you can stay as long as you want, provided your tribute is still alive. However, if your tribute is one of the unfortunate sacrifices we will provide transportation back to your hometown district immediately."

Seneca clears his throat again and smiles. His white teeth gleam in the camera lights and he nods at the camera. "I'm sure you all have plenty of questions, so for now I will leave that up to your designated official. Thank you for your time... And Happy Hunger Games."

The screen flickers off and for a moment all four of us stare at the black screen, not moving, not talking, and not saying a word. The room is so quiet that I can hear everyone inhaling and exhaling slowly like wind in the room. Sage interrupts the silence and begins clapping her hands enthusiastically. Her smile is so wide that her cheeks show dimples.

Huh. I would have thought she would try to get those removed. They're adorable on her.

"You all get to stay here with me for awhile! What do you darlings think, are you excited like me?"

We're all silent again and then the four of us start speaking at once. The chatter is deafening and we all stop again and giggle hesitantly. It's obvious that all of us are excited but we're all nervous as well.

"So we can stay and see our tributes but afterwards we can leave at any time we want? Even if our tribute is still alive?" This question comes from Gale and I look at him, surprised. He raises his eyebrows at me, "Don't look at me like that Katniss, I worry about my family providing for themselves right now. And besides, I don't want to wait around if it's looking like he won't make it. I can't do that, I'm sorry."

Before I can reply to him Sage speaks. "You can leave at any time, Gale. The only time we will make you leave is if you're being belligerent or if Peeta dies. Also, I probably should have mentioned this before now, but while you have all been here your family has been provided with extra tesserae until your return."

Relief flows through me.

Thank God.

"So, we get an hour with them," I say as I look at Gale. "Is this private or do we have all have to be together at the same time?" He looks at me questioningly but I ignore him. I need private time with Peeta away from Gale. I have questions. Questions about that kiss, namely.

"It's going to be a private location with only the two of you, Katniss."

"So if we leave, we can't come back." Brylens words are a statement, not a question. Sage nods. "Why the hell would we want to come back here? I'm thinking if we left, then we wouldn't want to return." Sage shrugs and I see something flash across her face but no one else notices.

"Is there a reason we should stay during the games that you all aren't telling us, Sage?" My second question fills the room as we all wait for her answer. She pauses for a beat too long before answering me.

"There is nothing I know that you all don't."

Her voice is steady but her eyes don't meet mine. Again the boys don't notice, but I do. From watching mom and her mood swings growing up, I learned to detect emotion with just the slightest twitches of a persons facial expression or body movements. My eyes flicker to her hands that grip the edge of her dress. Her bottom lip is pursed slightly and her breathing has accelerated.

Sage is lying.

There's something the Capitol is still not telling us.


	8. Chapter 8

"Stop pursing your lips every time you answer a question. The crowd won't like you if you act like you hate me."

"You say that like I don't hate you," Axel mutters as he rolls his eyes.

"This interview is very important, Axel, and you need to take this seriously. Do you want to be the reason Stella doesn't get any sponsors? I'm sure she wouldn't appreciate that."

His jaw stiffens and his nostrils slightly flare. His steely eyes stare at Sage and he sits very still before replying. "Fine. Next question."

Gale nudges me with his arm and shakes his head slightly. The four of us have been in the same room together since early this morning getting lessons on how to be more likable for the public. So far it hasn't been going well between Axel and Brylen's attitudes and me and Gale's awkwardness. We're all trying- some more than others- but it's beginning to take its toll.

So far it's been determined that I'm basically an unlikable person in general. I'm not cute. I'm not funny, I'm not sexy, I'm not innocent. Without a particular role to play up it's pretty helpless so far. Sage also determined that Gale is boring. Not good, not bad, just forgettable. He didn't take that too well. However nothing compares us to Axel and Brylen who have done nothing but be rude to Sage all morning. I almost feel bad for her.

Almost.

"You're wasting our time, Sage. This is stupid. Do you even know what you're doing?" Brylen leers at her from where we're sitting and her eyes narrow before her lower lip juts out. She holds his gaze for a moment and stands.

"You two are absolutely the most idiotic people I have ever met. I'm trying to help you right now, not bore you to death. If you would stop being so rude and so ungrateful then maybe this would benefit you more," she says. She snatches up her tiny purse and stomps to the door leading outside. "I'm taking a break. Maybe this would benefit you all as well; you have twenty minutes." She steps out into the hallway and disappears.

"I just want to see Stella and get all this out of the way. Is that so bad?" Axel walks over to a table filled with food and picks up a plate before filling it with his lunch. "I feel like I'm wasting my time. This is stupid."

"I honestly think she's just trying to help us not makes fools of ourselves when we're onstage with Caesar tonight. Just keep thinking of that. Assume positive intent," Gale says, standing and stretching his legs.

"Positive intent has never worked out in my case," Brylen mutters. "But whatever."

"We get to see them again. Stop complaining," I bark. "If it weren't for these people and their antics, no matter how crazy they are, we would be at home still moping around. Instead we get to see them again. Suck it up or go the hell home."

The three of them don't say anything. Axel sits at the dining room table and Gale and Brylen begin filling their plates with mounds of food. My stomach rumbles and I join them at the buffet table. Plates filled with colorful meats and cheeses are beautifully arranged and fruits and vegetables fill plates nearby. Four different kinds of soups and three different kinds of pasta fill glass bowls. I fill my plate with vegetables and a sandwich and make myself a bowl of lobster bisque. When the three of us walk to the long table we sit on opposite ends.

"I feel like this day is going to go by really slowly," Gale says as he twirls pasta around his fork. Since we've been here he's realized that pasta is his favorite food. Particularly, some concoction with bacon and cream and shrimp and I don't even know what else. He can't get enough of it since they brought it into the room earlier. He shovels the pasta into his mouth and rolls his eyes in happiness. "I will never get tired of this pasta, I swear."

Taking a sip of my soup, I smile at him. "Well get it while you can, Gale. Have you decided whether or not you're staying once the games start?" His face drops and he looks away and shrugs. He takes another bite of his pasta. "I'm not asking to judge you, Gale. I understand if you want to be with your family."

"I don't know yet. I already messed up once when I didn't say bye to Peeta and I don't want to mess up again. But I don't know if I'll be able to be surrounded by people cheering and laughing and watching the games for fun. While everyone here is having a jolly old time I'll be up all night terrified that my best friend will be murdered on national television. I'm not sure if I can deal with that." He pauses for a moment to take a sip of juice. "How about you?"

"I'm staying. I knew that the second Seneca gave us the option." He looks at me in surprise. "I just have a weird feeling, Gale. Like I'm supposed to be here. Like there's more to it than what they're telling us."

"Like what?"

"This can't all be for a joyride. There has to be something in it for them. I don't believe they would give us these clothes and this food and treat us so well just so we can see our tributes again; I just can't figure out why they would do it."

"Are you sure you want to be the one to figure out their ulterior motives, if they have them?"

"I don't know, but I guess we'll find out."

"Did Peeta ever tell you..." Gale looks up at me and I see something flash in his eyes before he looks away. "Never mind."

"Did he ever tell me what?"

He pauses and exhales. "Nothing. I'll tell you later."

* * *

"Well?" I spin in front of the mirror and turn towards Prat who stands beaming at me. "How do you like it, Katniss? You're killing me here." He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

"I'm thinking this was worth the effort, but I'm not sure if I'll be doing it again." He laughs and I smile. After the mentoring from Sage the four of us were separated to get ready for the interviews tonight. After getting waxed and buffed and getting loads of makeup piled on my face I was subjected to having my hair nearly pulled out of my head. By the time I finally got to see Prat I was in the worst mood imaginable.

That is, until I pulled on my dress.

It's exquisite, really. It's red, and simply cut: it's long with a sweetheart neckline and no frou frou and no frills. There's no poufy skirt and no daring amount of skin showing; however, there is a small section of beading that makes it stunning. Starting around the bust and wrapping around my midsection is an intricate detailing of silver heads and crystals that goes around to my back. The design is simple, yet stunning.

It's perfect.

I beam at Prat and he shakes his bottom and claps his hands. "I knew you would love it! Knew it, knew it, knew it. You're going to stun Peeta when he sees you tonight, sweetheart." He fluffs my hair and steps back. "And with your hair down tonight instead of your braid, it's perfect. Thank you for trusting me."

"Thank you for not making me look like a duck drowning in a dress."

He bursts out laughing pulls me in for a hug. When he releases me he looks saddened for a moment. He touches the bottom of my chin and gives me a small smile. "Are you staying tomorrow? Have you decided yet? If you're going home this will probably be it for us."

"I'm staying, Prat. I need to be here for him, even if I can't help him."

"But you can." My puzzled look makes his face drain of color. "I shouldn't have said that. You didn't hear anything from me, Katniss. Please. You cant say anything to anyone, not even Peeta and Gale." He squeezes my hands in his and pleads with me with his eyes.

"But how can I help him? What are they not telling us Prat? I need to know, please," I beg. Before I know it my eyes are already filling with tears as I stare at him. He shakes his head apologetically and my thoughts are swirling as I think of the implications of his words. I can't leave. Not now. Not ever.

Unless Peeta dies.

* * *

"Something on your mind, Katniss?" The room the four of us are sitting in is cold and quiet as the small television broadcasts the interviews of the districts before us. Since district 12 is last, we get to see everyone else's interviews first. Even Brylen and Axel go on before Gale and I. Gale's arm is slung around my shoulders as we wait. I feel a bit awkward but I don't shrug him off because I'm cold.

I think he's enjoying it a bit too much.

"Nothing, just paying attention." So far the way they're scheduling interviews is that each individual tribute goes first and then their visitors have a short interview after them- really, it's just to introduce them to the people and how they know their tribute. Luckily there have been no in depth questions as of yet for the visitors.

Every once in awhile the crowd especially likes some of them a lot- for example, Cato's brother, Xander. Just as cocky and big boned as his little brother, he wows the crowd with his smile instantaneously. Cato's best friend, Julius also is introduced. He is a bit scary, honestly. He's dark, brooding, and unforgiving as he stared at the crowd in front of him.

They loved it of course.

Landrin, the boy with the limp from district 10, is timid as he approaches Caesar onstage. His interview goes by quickly and Caesar tries to make the best of it but Landrin's awkwardness shows through and the crowd doesn't bite. My heart hurts for him as he limps offstage defeated.

When we finally get to District twelve I'm ready to do backflips off the walls I'm so nervous. Axel and Brylen go backstage and Gale and I wait quietly as we watch Stella's interview. Her blonde hair is wavy tonight and she wears a long black dress that shows every curve she has with a plunging neckline. Her eyes are smoldering with dark shadow that makes her green eyes pop.

"My, my, Miss Stella, don't you look ravishing tonight," Caesar exclaims as he lifts one of her hands to spin her around in a circle. "Don't you all agree?" The crowd roars and they both share a smile as they sit down. I look at Gale and he rolls his eyes. "Tell me, Stella, what was it like going through training? What should the tributes watch out for during the Games?"

Her green eyes sparkle under the lights as she replies, "there's a lot more to me than meets the eye. I'm sneaky. I'm cunning. And I'm a really good liar." She winks at the crowd and they eat it up.

Huh. She's already telling people she's a good liar? If she has any alliances now those will be shot unless she's a better game player than she appears to be. Maybe she's a lot smarter than she lets on.

Or just dumb.

"That's so confident of you, Stella. Tell us, where do you get this self assurance from? I'm sure so many young women out there will love such a strong female to look up to."

"I don't need anyone to tell me how to live my life or how to act. I know how to be self reliant." The crowd responds but not as reverently as before. Her attitude is beginning to show through but not in a cute sassy way like Glimmer's- this just seems undeserving. Unthankful. The Capitol isn't going to provide many sponsors if she says she's so self reliant.

Obviously trying to salvage her last answer, Caesar continues. "If you win, how excited are you to go back home and move into the Victors Village? I hear it's quite beautiful there."

The camera is back on Stella before she can hide her sneer. "Well, Caesar, I would be pretty excited, I guess. I'd hate to move out of my old house though. I've been there since I was a little kid." The crowd is silent and Caesar gives her an uncomfortable smile. I shake my head at Gale. She's done. She's making it clear she doesn't need sponsors or anyone's help, and she doesn't care for the rewards.

I don't blame her particularly- I can't say I'd be any different- but she could have at least exaggerated a little bit to help herself out. She'll be lucky if she gets one sponsor, let alone any at all.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, that's it for Stella!" She stands and waves at the crowd but they clap half heatedly in return. By the time Axel and Brylen are onstage they're practically booing them. Just like Stella, they're both unlikable and rude. Every time Caesar asks a question he gets an eye roll. They both leave the stage and Gale takes my hand as we're led backstage out of sight of Peeta.

We watch the monitors backstage as he walks in front of the crowd for his interview. Gale looks at me for a moment and gives me a small smile before squeezing my hand. "Here we go. Wish him luck."

"Peeta Mellark! Wonderful to see you, sir," Caesar says as he claps him on the back. "How are you today? How are you liking it in the Capitol so far?"

Peeta, adorned in a black suit with flames coming up at the sleeves, gives him a confident but sincere smile. Peeta never could be mean to anyone, really. "I like it a lot actually. It's pretty different than growing up in a bakery. I think I like the showers best, though."

Surprise crosses Caesars face. "Showers?" He looks at the crowd incredulously and they all roar in laughter.

"Tell me, do I still smell like roses to you?" Caesar booms out laughing and leans in to sniff him. He nods and motions for Peeta to smell him too. Peeta nods back and they both sit back into their seats comfortably.

The crowd loves him already.

Caesar lets the noise die down before asking him his next question. "So, is there anyone special for you back home? You're a handsome lad, I'm sure someone's waiting on you."

Gales hand in mine tenses and I look up at him. His face is pale and he's staring at me. _What_? I mouth at him. He shakes his head and looks away. I look back at the screen and Peeta's cheeks are turning pink.

"Well there is this one girl. I've had a crush on her since I can remember."

"Does she know how you feel, Peeta?" The crowd goes silent as they all wait for his answer. Who is he talking about? Surely not me. But I can't think of a girl he could have a crush on...

"I kissed her before I left."

My breath catches in my chest as my eyes meet Gales. The crowd lets out a big sigh and Gale rips his hand out of mine violently. His chest rises and falls and his whole body seems to be shaking.

"Gale, what the hell?"

"He kissed you. He kissed you and you didn't tell me?" His body is still turned away from me so I can't see his face, but his voice says it all. It's full of hurt and pain and, if I'm not mistaken, a hint of jealousy.

"How do you know..." It dawns on me. "Wait. You knew he liked me? And you didn't say anything?"

"He told me not to say anything. He told me if he got reaped he would leave and never tell you because he didn't want to hurt you. Obviously that didn't happen."

Anger rips through me. "So what if it didn't? Why does that bother you so much? And he didn't tell me. He kissed me and then I was dragged away and drugged before anything else happened. You would have known that if you would have actually said goodbye instead of being a coward and leaving."

"Whatever, Katniss. You two can be the happy little couple you've always wanted to be. I'll stay out of the way, don't worry."

"What are you talking about? Gale, the Games start tomorrow. Are you kidding me?"

His face turns white and he huffs. "Whatever. Keep watching your boyfriend and his interview and watch everyone else out there fall in love with him too. We're almost up." He adjusts his red tie to make it a bit looser against his black jacket.

"This conversation isn't over, Gale."

"The hell it isn't."

Caesar asks Peeta one last question. "If you could tell her one thing, right now, what would it be?" I would bet serious money right now that Caesar knows exactly who Peeta is talking about and that I'm right behind the stage without Peeta knowing. I guess this makes for great television, but the fact that they're using us as pawns infuriates me.

Peeta clears his throat and looks into the camera. His blue eyes shine under the stage light and his jaw tenses slightly for a moment before my breath catches in my throat.

"I'm sorry we had to say goodbye so quickly, but I don't regret a thing. I promise to do everything I can to find my way home to you," he says just loud enough for the camera to hear. His next few words are a mere whisper and I can barely hear them above the roar of the crowd, but they make my heart stop just the same.

"I'm sorry I never said anything before now but you should know... You should know that I love you."

* * *

**I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update, guys! I started a new story, From Where I'm Standing, so I've been a bit busy with that. Check it out if you haven't already. ;) **


	9. Chapter 9

"Katniss, you look lovely tonight. And my goodness, Gale, I'm sure the ladies fall all over you on a daily basis, don't they?"

Gale gives a small smile and shakes his head. "Not exactly."

"I don't know, I think I just saw someone swoon in that corner over there," he says as he flashes a smile to a woman decked in a garish yellow jumpsuit. She hollers something but it's muffled over the laughter of the people around her. Gale shoots an uncomfortable look to the floor.

"Well, we obviously know at least one person is head over heels with Katniss. What were your first thoughts when Peeta confessed his love for you? Had he ever said anything before?"

The spotlights shine on me and I wince as the crowd leans forward in their seats. Gale watches me in apprehension and I study the bottom of my dress for a second before answering.

"Well, I had no idea." Truthfully, I didn't. At all. "I may have suspected a few times, but i was never sure." Even after he kissed me I wondered if it was just one of those emotionally charged moments, not that he was in love with me. There have been moments here and there the past few years where I wondered- a stare held for a second too long, a brush of his hand on my lower back, a hug held longer than needed. But I never felt uncomfortable about it; I just never said anything.

"And your feelings towards him? Do you reciprocate or do you have someone else back home?"

Gale looks away and I see his fists clench. The crowd stays quiet as they wait for me to reply, but I'm speechless. My cheeks begin to flush and Caesar takes that as his answer.

"It looks like we have a case of the star crossed lovers here, folks. That's all for tonight, but let's give a round of applause for Katniss and Gale!" He stands and claps his hands for us as we face the crowd and wave.

We're ushered backstage in a rush and Sage is there to meet us with Axel and Brylen. Peeta and Stella are nowhere to be found and the four of us stand there gaping at Sage now that the interviews are over.

"When do we get to see them? What are we waiting for?" My voice is a bit high in apprehension and Gale says nothing. Brylen and Axel wait patiently for the first time ever while I fidget with my dress in nervousness.

"This way." Sage gestures for us to follow her back to our suite and begins talking. "Before we do anything, we have already chosen who gets to see who first. Brylen, you get to see Stella first, then Axel. Gale, you get to see Peeta first and Katniss gets to see him last." She opens a door and points at Brylen. "You're up. Axel, please go back to you're room and someone will summon you when it's time."

They both stand there with dumbfounded looks before Brylen hesitantly puts his hand on the door to the room. He looks at Axel and nods before stepping inside. Axel stands staring at the door and doesn't move. He looks at Sage.

"Can I just wait outside the door here? I'll be quiet."

Her gaze softens and she shakes her head. "Sorry, Axel. Rules are rules." He nods and walks away quietly down the hallway. My heart aches for him; as much as I don't like him, I understand what he's feeling right now. The last thing I want is to wait in my room like a sitting duck for an hour. I'll go crazy in there.

"Gale, your room is right here," she says as she motions to a door on the opposite side of the hallway. "Katniss, you know the drill. We'll come get you when your turn is up."

Gale watches me for a second and he shifts his weight from one foot to the other before grasping the handle. He watches me with a saddened look on his face and takes a deep breath before opening the door. He quietly steps in and shuts it closed behind him and Sage and I stand there for a moment. She puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Go. Your turn will be up before you know it. I promise," she says warmly before giving me a sincere smile. "I'll walk with you, darling. Come on." Her gentle hand guides me and I breathe in her scent of peppermints. It's strangely soothing and I inhale deeper.

I numbly walk back in silence to my room alongside Sage. It's like my senses have been cut off; maybe I have so much adrenaline running through me that it's blocking everything. I'm not sure. But I do know that all of a sudden I'm sitting on my bed blankly staring at wall without remembering how I got here.

Fifty minutes to go.

What will I say to him? What will he say to me? Will be act any different since he's been in the Capitol? Will he be excited to see me or sad because he's going in the Games tomorrow?

Forty five minutes.

This is going to be the longest forty five minutes of my life. I stand up and pace the room and feel the adrenaline running through my body in anticipation of seeing him again. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and suddenly wish I had a set of clothes to change into but no one brought me anything.

Who knows, maybe Peeta will enjoy seeing me dressed up for a change.

It can be like his going away present.

Ugh.

Forty one minutes.

If there was ever a time for me to have a book or television on hand it would be now. Go figure we're in the Capitol which is chock full of luxuries and I can't even get that to keep me company until he comes.

Thirty seven minutes.

I'm going to go crazy.

Will he still be wearing his suit from his interview? God, I hope I didn't make him look like an idiot. I felt like an idiot up there, even if it was a short interview. Thank God all the visitors had mini interviews instead of longer ones like the tributes. I'd make an idiot of myself for sure then.

Thirty two.

UGH.

I sit on my bed and scoot back so I'm leaning against the headboard facing the clock on the wall. I close my eyes for a moment and remember the last time I saw him. His blonde hair and blue eyes and his freckles as they disappeared before his lips were on mine. The feeling of being ripped away from him as the peacekeepers came in. The needle going into my arm and everything going black.

Waking up alone.

I open my eyes. Twenty five to go.

Up until the day I said goodbye to Peeta I never thought about pursuing our friendship further. I might have had fleeting moments here and there but I didn't allow myself to linger on those thoughts. But right now, right here, I am.

I care about Peeta more than I allowed myself to believe.

Maybe it took him being reaped for me to realize it, or him kissing me, or maybe it was the moment I walked into his room in district twelve and realized he was gone. Maybe it was when we were told we would get to see them one more time before the Games.

Maybe it's the fact that he admitted he loved me.

... Even if it was on national television.

Sixteen minutes.

I sit up and walk to the small mirror hanging on the wall under the clock. I pull up a chair and, for the first time in a long time, take a good look at myself in the mirror.

I'm not particularly pretty. I'm kind of plain, really. Grey eyes. Brown hair. Full lips. A few freckles here and there. I'm a skinny girl but hunting has given me a bit more definition than others. I'm sarcastic, stubborn and a bit of an asshole sometimes, except around the people I care about. I'm no one special, just another girl from the Seam.

So why me?

What is it about me that made Peeta fall for me?

Twelve minutes.

I look away from the mirror and down at my feet. I still have my high heels on and my feet are killing me. I walk to the door to my room and kick them off. Instantly my feet are thanking me and I sit back down to massage them. How these people in the Capitol wear the darn things escapes me. That's torture.

Ten minutes.

I wonder what Gale and Peeta have talked about during their time together. I hope Gale isn't mad that Peeta did anything or that he kissed me.

Okay, obviously he's mad.

But I hope he didn't say anything to Peeta about it. Frankly, it's none of his business and what with the Games tomorrow, Peeta doesn't need anything else stressful in the back of his head like his best friend being angry at him.

Eight minutes.

God, I hope he comes home.

Seven and a half.

Six minutes.

Five minutes.

This wait is going to be the death of me. I can't rip my eyes away from the clock and I can't stop pacing the room. My senses are in overdrive and with every tick of the clock I feel like ripping my hair out. I hear voices nearby down the hallway and my eyes flicker to the light under the door when I see movement.

I inhale.

A shadow stops in front of my door and I stand up.

The shadow keeps moving and I sit down down.

I exhale.

Four minutes.

I close my eyes and focus on my breathing to calm my accelerated heartbeat. My hands are shaky and I concentrate on taking deep breaths in and exhaling slowly. My toes keep twitching against the carpeted floor.

Two minutes.

Seriously?!

The ticking is louder than ever and I hear voices down the hallway again. I walk to my door and brace my ear against it straining to hear anything outside. Nothing. Now would be the perfect time for supersonic hearing.

Thirty seconds.

I hear footsteps approaching and they stop outside of my door. I can hear someone's breathing on the other side and I swear my heart stops for a minute. Why aren't they knocking? Every second they wait to take me to the room where Peeta is at is just another second I have to wait to see him. The person clears their throat and I thrust open the door before they have a chance to knock.

But instead of an escort, someone else stands in front of me.

Peeta.


	10. Chapter 10

I take a step backwards and he moves forward as if an invisible string attaches us. He quietly closes the door behind him and he stands in the doorway studying me. I look down and remember I'm still in my interview dress with a face full of makeup and my hair still down in soft waves.

All of my senses are heightened. His messy blonde hair is tousled in all the right places and his bright blue eyes study mine in an unsure and hesitant manner. His jaw is perfectly smooth and still perfectly square just the way I remember it. The slight scent of cologne lingers on his skin and his fitted white shirt hangs off his muscled shoulders.

His arms are wrapped around me before I have a chance to say anything to him. I revel in the moment and breathe him in, squeezing my arms around his waist. He pulls me in even tighter, cradling my head with his hand, and I feel his body tremble slightly before he finally releases me.

"I didn't think I'd see you again," he murmurs as he laces my fingers with his. He gently pulls us to the bed and he sits down at the end of it facing me when I sit down next to him. "I wish you hadn't come, Katniss. I wish you didn't have to stay to watch the Games. You shouldn't have to see that here with all these people; you should be home, with your Mom and Prim."

"I don't have to stay. I chose to. What all have they told you?" He shakes his head and looks away, shrugging.

"I didn't know you were here until tonight, but so far, nothing they haven't told you all. Gale and I talked about it for awhile." His face changes when he mentions Gale and I see his fists slightly clench in his lap. His gaze is directed at the floor when his jaw tightens.

I choose my next words carefully. "Is that all you and Gale talked about?" I watch him with sharp eyes and see him inhale sharply before he lifts his head to meet my gaze. His cheeks flush pink and he gives a small shrug. He says nothing and I continue. "He seemed a bit upset after your interview tonight."

His whole body freezes and it's like he's stopped breathing. "The interview." His words come out like whispers. "You saw the interview tonight?"

"Of course we did. We were interviewed too, didn't you know that?"

"You saw all of the interview?"

I bite my lip and nod slowly. A long pause fills the room and and he leans back to lay down on the bed. His legs still hang off of the end of it awkwardly and I scoot back so that I'm laying down on my side facing him. He lifts an arm and covers his face.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

"That had to be awkward for you, for me to announce that on national television. Gale is furious at me."

"Why? I thought you didn't know that we saw the interview?"

"He didn't say anything about that. He was angry that I kissed you."

It's silent again for a moment. "Oh."

"I just," he breathes, "I just needed to do that before I left. Just once. I never thought I'd see you again. I never thought..." His voice cracks and he shakes his head. I reach over and gently take his hand in mine, squeezing it softly.

"Peeta, it's okay," I murmur as he lifts his arm away to face me. "I'm still here, right? You didn't scare me away. I'm still here."

"I'm scared, Katniss."

"It's okay to be scared."

His body trembles and he pulls his hand away from mine. " If I don't come back, I need you to-"

I cut him off before he finishes. "Shut up." He looks at me in surprise and the space between his eyebrows wrinkles. "You can't think like that. You're doing well, Peeta. The crowd loves you and you're smart. You can do this."

"I can't kill anyone. I can't."

"You can't die either, Peeta. I need you."

He chuckles. "You don't need me." He reaches out and pulls me to him. I lay my head on his chest and he plays with my hair. "I've always been the one that needs you."

I don't say anything. A few years ago, I might have agreed. But after seeing Peeta get reaped I know that's not true anymore. I He may not know that yet, but I've known since I was standing in the midst of all the other children from District twelve, with Peeta onstage in front of me.

"It's not the same without you home, Peeta. You have to come back." I look up at him. "You have to."

He clears his throat. "How is my family?"

"Fine. The bakery is going well and your dad basically hired me and Prim. They miss you."

"All of them?"

He's talking about his mother. "I didn't see her."

"Yeah, neither did I the day I left." I stay quiet. "You would think that with me getting reaped she would have at least said a few words to me, but she didn't even tell me goodbye. Nothing at all."

My blood runs cold as I remember the confrontation I had with her outside of the room. "I might have said a few words to her." He grins and shakes his head. "What? She deserves to have someone call her out sometimes. She's terrible."

"I know." His fingers comb through my hair and I shiver slightly. "Are you cold?" His hand rubs my arms up and down. "Do you want me to pull up the blanket for you?"

"No, I guess I'm just not used to exposing my arms like this."

"You're beautiful." His lips brush my forehead and he pulls me closer. We lay in silence for a moment and I listen to the steady sound of his heartbeat. He and I have done this, layer together in silence, so many times that it feels like home. Up until recently, I thought nothing of it. Now... I savor it. "Listen, I know you don't want to talk about this, but..."

I pull away. "What?"

"If I don't come home, I need to know you'll be okay."

"Peeta..."

"No, just hear me out. Our families need you and Gale. I need you two to be strong." I nod. "And Gale, he needs you more than ever."

"What?"

"Katniss, he's crazy about you. Have you never noticed that?"

"What are you talking about?" How the hell do I go from cone best friend being in love with me to both of my best friends loving me? What the hell?

His hand brushes my cheek. "He could make you happy. That's all I want."

"Well, you don't get to decide that do you?" He's taken aback but I continue. "You've got to stop this moping around, Peeta. You need to get your head in the game and think about your priorities, not about everyone else. Don't you want to live?"

"Of course I want to live," He sits up and stares at me. "Do you think this is easy on me? I thought I said goodbye already. I thought that was it. As much as it sucked saying goodbye to you Katniss, I never thought I'd see you again. Up until tonight, I had accepted that I'm probably going to die tomorrow, but here I am now hoping for more."

"You accepted that you were going to die? Why would you ever do that?" My voice is raising higher and higher as I jump off the bed and wave my arms at him. "How can you be so selfish when you have so many people waiting for you to come back home?"

"Selfish? How is that selfish? Of course I'm going to fight, Katniss. I would never give up. I'm not naive, but I don't wan to become a monster either. Only one comes out; those chances aren't too great in case you haven't noticed." He huffs out a breath of air and lifts a hand through his hair. Even now, even angry, he still looks so pure. So wholesome. His cheeks flush pink in anger and he continues. "Don't you remember our pact?"

I nod and sit down slowly on the bed. I say nothing as I play with the fabric on my dress. Peeta kneels in front of me and takes my hand in his. He tilts my chin lightly and I look at him slowly.  
"I don't want to spend the rest of our time arguing."

"Me neither, Katniss."

"I don't know what I'd do in your situation, Peeta. I can't imagine how hard this is on you." He gives me a small halfhearted smile and nods. "What do you want?" I look at the clock. Fifteen minutes has already gone by. "We have forty five minutes left together."

"I just want to spend every possible minute of the rest of my life with you," he replies quietly. I nod and pull him close to me to hug him. He wraps his arms around me again and relaxes in my hold; he pulls back and looks up at the ceiling. He reaches into his pocket and produces a key. "I want to take you somewhere."

* * *

The roof is dark but the lights from the Capitol illuminate us just enough. We sit down facing the people below us and watch them quietly for a few moments. People cheer, the sound of music blasts and the fresh air surrounds us. I breathe in slowly and know without a doubt that the longer Peeta is in the Games, I'll be likely to come up here again to get away from all the crazies.

"I came up here a few days ago and it's been my spot ever since. My only place to get away," he says over the quiet rush of wind around us. I shiver slightly and he motions for me to sit closer to him; an arm goes around my shoulders and I revel in his warmth.

I have never been able to do this with Gale. Subconsciously I've always known it means more to him than it does to me; with him, at least. It's never been in Gales nature to be physically affectionate. With Peeta, it's his second nature. Since I've known him, he's always been one to hold hands or hug me so tight I can't breathe; Prim calls him her 'Peeta bear' on occasion.

I wish I didn't take those moments for granted before.

I wrap my arms around his waist and he sighs into my hair, brushing loose strands out of my face. He rests his chin on top of my head and I squeeze his waist just a little bit tighter. He chuckles.

"Remember the time I was helping you bake that wedding cake and you accidentally dropped the batter all over the floor? And my shoes?"

"Oh geez," he laughs. "I thought Dad was going to murder me that day." His head tilts back and he closes his eyes. "You washed your shoes like five times before they began to get ungreasy."

Batter smells so delicious but with all the butter and oil, it's pretty icky to clean up; I learned that the hard way that day. My shoes were greasy for weeks afterwards. Peeta and I spent forever on our hands and knees cleaning up the kitchen floor and his Dad took over cake baking duties. At one point Peeta ended up with batter on his nose and when I tried to wipe it off for him I ended up swiping soap on his face.  
That whole day was just a mess. The weight of knowing that we could be in our last moments together hits me all at once, again, for the millionth time today. My body stiffens and I sit up, allowing my arm to still rest against his lightly.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't think I can do this."

His face falls. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. We can go back downstairs." He begins to try to stand up, but I pull him back down again.

"That's not what I mean. I just..." My eyes flicker down to the street. "Seeing all these people downstairs acting like nothing is wrong, not knowing that I'm up here possibly spending the last hour I'll ever have with my best friend..." I hold his gaze and shift my eyes away. "I can't lose you, Peeta. I can't."

The walls inside me are beginning to crack little by little crumbling down piece by piece. If ever there was a person that could make them come crashing down, it's him. His eyes search mine and I bring my fingertips up to brush a lock of hair out of his eyes. It drifts down to cup his cheek. My fingertips graze the velvet smooth texture of his skin and the light reflects subtlety off his blue eyes, which are still staring into mine. His next words come out at a whisper.

"You can never lose me, Katniss."

"Promise you'll stay with me?"

He nods, pulling me gently onto his lap. "Always," he murmurs, wrapping me in his arms tight, but still not tight enough somehow. He holds me like that for a long time, holding me close, the both of us just breathing each other in.

He shamelessly studies my face and my features for a long time as if he's studying and memorizing every detail he can before our hour is up. His fingertips trail down the length of my hair, weaving strands through his fingers, twirling the tips softly. His eyes flicker to my eyes, to my nose, to my cheeks, to my eyes again. When his gaze flickers down to my mouth and stays there for a beat longer than usual, my heartbeat starts to quicken; to my dismay, he merely takes my hand in his and rests his forehead against mine.

"We should probably get going back downstairs again."

I nod and he reluctantly releases me. I stand and watch him as he stretches his legs out. As he tilts his head back to stretch his neck, the light plays off his hair giving it a gentle golden glow. His skin seems illuminated from within from the moonlight and the streetlights below us. He looks up at me and gives me one of his shy smiles, and a fluttering in my stomach begins to slowly burn its way through my body.

That's when it happens.

The fear within in me begins to dissolve from within and instead, strength takes its place, spreading out and stretching like an eagles wings. I feel like I'll never be afraid of anything again, except losing Peeta.

I feel my feet begin to move, shifting without meaning to, towards Peeta. He gives me a sad smile and I reach out to take his hand in mine. His thumb rubs reassuringly over the back of my hand and he squeezes gently.

"I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right-"

I pull him towards me and my lips are on his before he can finish his sentence. For a split second his body goes stiff in surprise but then he melts into the kiss. He sighs into me and one hand goes up to cradle my head, the other to wrap around my back, pulling me up onto my tip toes. My arms wrap around his neck and my fingers gently explore the hair at the name of his neck.

The kiss is so gentle; even more so than our first. But this one is so much more, making the other like a distant echo. The first one was an awakening, a realization of what could be, a bittersweet and confusing goodbye. This one is a promise, a wave of light warming us both, making us float in the air as we cling to each other like it's our last breath.

His soft lips are warm as they part slightly; I feel his tongue touch my bottom lip before making sweeping passes across mine. His hand cupping my head switches and makes a path from my temple to my neck down to my waist.

He deepens the intensity of the kiss and my knees go weak for a split second; I feel his lips curve up into a smile as he tightens his grip around me slightly, dipping his head down to kiss a few times on the neck before hesitantly pulling his head back. He gives me a soft smile, his eyes filled with a mixture of awe and amazement. He leans down and gives me a soft kiss on the tip of my nose and I smile, closing my eyes as I wrap my arms around him again.

When we get back to my room, we just lay together in bed cuddling and kissing. I'm not sure when, but at some point my eyelids grow heavy and I drift off to sleep in the warmth of his arms. As I do, he whispers something in my ear, but in my haze I don't hear his words.

Soon after, I wake up to him kissing my forehead and telling me that it's time for him to leave. I sit up and wrap my arms around him as tight as I possibly can, and he rests his forehead against mine as he holds my face between his hands. He kisses me hard, a passionate kiss filled with longing that takes my breath away. The kiss goes on and on and my heart rate is ready to explode out of my chest but is contained inside only because his lips are on mine. He stops abruptly, crushes me against his chest, and releases me.

In a swift move, he turns and walks out of the door without saying another word, closing it shut behind him. I try to follow him into the hallway but apparently the door locked behind him. I sink down to the ground and stare at the clock, watching the hands tick slowly as the minutes go on.

One hour. I had one hour with him, and that hour was more than I ever could have asked for. Then realization sets in and my whole body begins to shake as the clock keeps ticking, deafening my ears as the small sound fills the room.

Tomorrow...

Tomorrow begins the Hunger Games.


	11. Chapter 11

The countdown begins.

Gale, true to his words, has already left to go back to District Twelve. Brylen left with him, but Axel stayed behind. Saying goodbye to Gale was so awkward, so uncomfortable, but in the end it doesn't matter. All that matters is Peeta right now, and if Gale can't be supportive of that then its his problem.

Either I come home with Peeta in hand...

Or I come home as an empty, broken shadow of myself.

I'm hoping that if it's the latter, I'll still have a best friend waiting on me with open arms. If not, I'll survive. I have until now, at least.

Axel watches me from across the room and I ignore his furtive glances. All morning everything has happened in a rush- people are swirling around loudly making commotions, while Axel and I wait impatiently on the side lines, chewing our finger nails, tapping our fingers, chewing on our lips. If it's like this for us, I can't even think of being in Peeta's shoes.

Finally around 10 a.m. we head to a viewing room with the rest of the tribute visitors as the last few touches are put in place for the Games. Silence echoes through the room as the few of us left scatter to random places throughout the auditorium. The theater-like seats are aligned in rows and we all settle down, eyeing each other like wolves about to go to battle.

Apart from me and Axel, only around twenty four people stayed out of the forty eight that arrived here days ago. Twelve of them are here for the career tributes of course, and the remaining bit of us are here from random districts. Axel looks at me in surprise and I give him a small nod.

I guess staying here is more out of the norm than we both thought.

A man walks into the room and everyone sits up a little bit straighter. His fire engine red hair reminds me of Darius' but his clothes are like those from everyone else at the Capitol; a neon yellow suit reminds me of ketchup and mustard but his painted face reminds me of the women I've seen around so far.

"Hello, our dear Amici. How are you all today?"

"The hell did you just call us?"

"Amici. Has no one told you our official name for you all since you've been here so far?" Everyone shakes their head hesitantly and he waves his hands at us. "No worries, no worries. Just a friendly term we use as endearment for you all. Now for today, I want you all to know exactly how this goes.

After the initial bloodbath today, we will be escorting out the loved ones present for the dead tributes. Please, no scenes. We understand if you are upset but really, it should be a proud moment for you. Your tributes worked hard for this moment and you should be proud they willingly sacrificed themselves."

I hate him already.

"As the initial first day or so goes by, we will see that many tributes will not survive. Again, once someone you know is gone, you're gone. I cannot stress this enough. Likewise, the longer your tribute is here, the longer you get to stay here. We are supplying your food, beverages, and a home for you. Enjoy yourselves! This is a vacation. Have fun."

He smiles and the twelve career Amici smile excitedly. The rest of us sink in our seats, knowing we will never be able to relax and have fun while the loom of death hangs in the air.

I hate it here.

"You may come and go from this room as you like. The Games will constantly be projected onto this screen day and night. Food and beverages are permitted in here as well.

The mentors from each individual district will be in contact with you whenever important information is rallied to them. This does not mean hound them at all times. If they feel something is vital for you to know, they will find you. This usually only involves sponsors and whatever is purchased for the tributes to receive in the arena.

The Games will begin in ten minutes. I suggest you get your affairs in order before the begin. Happy Hunger Games, Amici! And may the odds be ever in your tributes favor." He winks and leaves the room and the career Amici let out a loud whoop before high fiving each other. A chill runs through me and I shiver before rubbing my arms up and down with my hands.

Four minutes to go.

I feel like I'm going to be sick. The chairs we sit in are extremely comfortable which surprises me. The lush cushions are huge and fluffy and I find myself sinking down even further before drawing my knees up to rest my head against them. I take in long, deep breaths to calm myself down and focus on making my heartbeat slow down.

When I raise my head again I see we still have a minute to go before the Games start. I wonder what Peeta is doing right now. Is he suiting up? Is he talking to his mentor? Is he freaking out like I am or is he putting on his brave front? I've never met anyone who can stay calm in all situations like he can.

Thirty seconds.

The room lights begin to dim and the room gets quiet. The television flickers on and the speakers crackle for a moment. I look at the clock; ten seconds to go. The last five seconds leave me feeling like I literally can't breathe.

The screen in front of us flickers on and all twenty four tributes stand in the middle of a large flat open field positioned in a circle. They all stand atop a metal circle; they must stand on these for sixty seconds or the podium blows up. A large golden cornucopia is positioned to the side of them. Materials and weapons and strewn about; it's easy to see that the important items like food, water and weapons are deep within the cornucopia while everything else is outside.

Basically, to survive, they want the tributes to literally have to fight to live.

I narrow in on Peeta who stands extremely still on his pad. He looks around at his surroundings calmly, but the quick rise and fall of his chest give him away. His eyes flicker back and forth between the cornucopia and the forest behind him; he looks down at his feet as if he's considering flight or fight.

Being the hunter I am, I'd run in for a weapon and hide as long as possible. Knowing Peeta, he's going to be smart and hide. I'm not sure what his plans are for the Games. We didn't talk much about them last night.

Stella in all her beauty stands and waits patiently as she watches all of her competitors. A small smile breaks out across her face as she realizes she's the one closest to any weapons than the other tributes. A long, very curved sword rests merely five feet behind her; it seems out of place considering the rest of the weapons are located within the cornucopia, but I'm sure she doesn't mind.

That sword is deathly. It will go in easy, but once it gets pulled out- since it's so curved- it'll rip someone's insides out. A young girl from seven sees the sword and her face goes pale when she makes eye contact with Stella. She winks at the little girl and braces her feet on her pad ready to launch at any second.

Ten seconds until it officially begins. All of the tributes are breathing heavily already. I suspect that with all the adrenaline running through their systems the last fifty three seconds have lasted an eternity.

Five seconds.

Peeta shifts and faces the woods, obviously deciding to go with the hiding decision. Thank god. His eyes close for a moment and he looks up at the sky as if he's saying a prayer. My hand reaches up to cover my mouth as I watch him; it seems like minutes ago, we were laying in my bed when my head rested on his chest listening to his heartbeat.

For a moment I remember the feel of his warm lips on mine before he rushed out of the room.

I pray that wasn't the last time I'll feel them on my own.

All at once every tribute sprints off in different directions. Peeta immediately runs for the woods behind him. A shout sounds behind him and he turns, ducking out of the way of a spear Marvel throws at him. He makes it into the woods and no one follows him.

Thank God.

It's chaos in the clearing as blood begins to pour. Tributes are literally hacking away at each other; four are already dead, their bodies lifeless and eyes cold to the world. Stella stands over the little girl and wipes the blade of her knife off on her shirt as she watches the fighting going on around her. Her eyes are cold and calculating; she's deciding on her next kill. Cato slashes someone nearby in the gut and Marvel spears a small girl through her chest.

Blood is everywhere.

Children are dying.

Tears are running down my face and I look over to the rest of the Amici in the room with me. Some have expressions of horror all over their face, some smile smugly, some are crying like me.

I feel empty inside.

Stella picks up a backpack and holds her knife at her side calmly as she makes her way to the wooded area like Peeta did already. A few feet away from her, Glimmer finishes cutting someone's throat and sees Stella trying to escape. She clucks her tongue and runs towards Stella, knocking her to the ground. They wrestle for a moment before Glimmer manages to pin Stella to the ground, sitting on her chest, making sure she can't escape.

Stella's blonde hair escapes her ponytail and she screams in her opponents face. Glimmer sneers unapologetically and laughs. She somehow draws one foot up to kick Glimmer in the back, hard, and Glimmer falters for a millisecond. That's how long it takes for Stella to gain control again. She thrusts Glimmer to the right onto her belly and in the same movement thrusts the knife down and into Glimmers spinal cord, ripping the knife up and out.

She's dead immediately.

Someone in the room screams and begins sobbing. Her friends sit in shock staring at the screen but do nothing to console the girl crying. Someone enters the room and whispers in her ear and she nods, removing herself from the auditorium. A few more people leave behind her, people here for the tributes already dead. I count the room again.

Only sixteen Amici are left.

I don't think anyone expected a career to get taken out so quickly, but now that Stella has made her mark, the careers will be out for blood. She wipes off her blade again and runs into the woods, grabbing Glimmers backpack in the process. Cato sees Glimmer's dead body and sees Stella just as she disappears. His face hardens and he finishes off the little boy in front of him.

The clearing is now empty expect for the careers; the rest of the tributes are either among the scattered dead bodies or are now retreated into the woods.

The bloodbath is over.

For now.

The screen begins shooting to various tributes as they make their way through the forest. Some are making shelter for themselves, some are staying on the move; Peeta is still making his way as far back as he can.

Keep moving, Peeta. Keep moving.

The screen cuts to Rue, who has already climbed up a tree. Her small body is clutching on to a branch and her wide brown eyes watch as tributes pass underneath her, oblivious to her presence.

Thresh has disappeared into a field of wheat. I glance over at his Amici, Crash, who gives a small worried smile as he watches his friend hide for his life.

Foxface has hidden nestled inside of a big bush, quietly watching other tributes as they pass her by.

Stella walks through the forest not even trying to hide herself or be quiet. She's cocky, self assured and menacing as she keeps an eye out for other tributes. Axel nods and winks at me and I look away.

Something about her makes me nervous. Same for Axel.

A few hours go by but no more deaths occur. Finally, a series of cannon shots begin bursting in the distance. I count the number of shots; each one represents a dead tribute.

Eleven tributes dead.

Thirteen players left.

Nighttime falls and finally I see that Peeta has hidden himself amongst a pile of shrubbery deep in the forest. He's rubbed dirt and other things on himself to better blend in to his surroundings. The only thing distinguishable about him are his bright blue eyes which shine up at the night sky as the faces of the dead tributes flash above him.

The screen splits and all of us Amici get a play by play recount of how every tribute so far has died. Blood is everywhere, dead eyes stare at the screen and for a few minutes I wish I could just drown out the sound of death as I squint my eyes shut.

The screen flashes back to Peeta and my heart falls to my feet as I see a figure approaching him. A crackle under his feet sounds and Peeta's entire body goes stiff. He closes his eyes and holds his breath as the person comes closer.

Slowly, the tribute comes up so he is merely inches away from Peeta's hand. At first I don't think he notices anything but then a tiny movement from Peeta's finger attracts his attention. He narrows his eyes and looks at the pile of dead leaves and shrubbery and dips down, squatting, poking at branches.

He's been found.

This is it.

* * *

**Hello loves! **

**The Games have officially begun, and I have tons of twists and turns coming up for you all- character developments, deaths (I apologize in advance if I make any of you cry later), and most of all, the game change. I can't WAIT! Everyone's reviews have been so sweet and encouraging and I appreciate all of you so much! Until the next chapter... **

**xoxo - Nina**

**p.s. "Amici" is pronounced "uh-mee-chee." It's Latin for "friend." Kind of nerdy, but I thought it worked and I liked the translation. **

**p.p.s. I really do love you all. If you want to show me love back in the form of reviews, I'd approve. Just saying! **

**p.p.p.s. I may or may not have had too much coffee tonight...**


	12. Chapter 12

The crippled boy from District 10 stumbles backwards away from Peeta and swiftly lands on his bottom as his eyes grow huge. Peeta sits up quickly in a stance ready to protect himself but the boy is frozen in fear and shaking, not making a move.

They both watch each other but neither are making a move to attack. It's obvious that of the two Peeta has the upper hand; he outweighs the boy by at least forty pounds and is about a head taller than him. The small boy tries to talk but begins stuttering and stammering over his words. My heart breaks for this boy immediately, that he is reduced to this because the Capitol is so desperate to have the upper hand, that they desire this sort of entertainment.

Peeta's face softens and he reaches a hand out to calm him. His dark hair flutters in the wind and he stops talking to try to calm himself down. His brown eyes flicker in the opposite direction like he's trying to figure out a way to escape, but it's easy to see that even if Peeta did try to kill him he wouldn't be able to get away with his crippled leg.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Peeta says quietly. The boy nods. I try to remember his name but my name is coming up blank. He looks around and back at Peeta but still doesn't say anything. Peeta continues. "What's your name?"

"Landrin," he replies. "My name is Landrin." He scoots over, quietly facing Peeta, still not completely trusting of him. "What about you?"

"Peeta." He looks down at himself and brushes some leaves off his shoulders. "Landrin, you should probably be trying to find shelter right now. The careers will be on the move tonight."

He nods. "I know." He bites the inside of his cheek. "I'm scared to fall asleep alone."

"Yeah, I could see that," Peeta murmurs. His eyes are unfocused as he gazes off into the distance. His eyes look so sad, so tired, already. It's only the first day and he looks exhausted. This time yesterday he was onstage talking to Caesar getting cheered on by a huge crowd rooting for him.

Now he's in a forest and is afraid to fall asleep in fear of getting murdered.

"I don't even have a weapon," Landrin whispers. "I didn't want to stay for the bloodbath. Do you know how many are gone already? I lost count when the cannons went off."

"Eleven are dead," he says sadly. The sun is beginning to set off in the distance and Peeta pauses for a few moments. "We could help each other. Tonight, at least."

Landrin perks up immediately. "How?"

"We can take turns keeping watch while we sleep and separate in the morning. Tonight will probably be the worst because everyone is trying to get rid of the easy kills."

"Do we have to separate?" Landrin doesn't look up and Peeta's gaze softens again.

"Well... I guess we can stay together. For as long as we can, at least." His shoulders droop and he looks away. The illusion of safety is a front, for both know that if they happen to last until the end one will have to kill the other to go home.

That's assuming they both last that long.

Landrin is around the same age as Peeta but his demeanor is so young and innocent; without Peeta, I doubt he'll last until the end. With Peeta, he may slow him down and put him at risk, but he could also help him get rest and keep watch.

This could be a very bad or a very good thing.

"Until then, we don't have to think about that." Peeta gives him a small smile and changes the subject. "What happened to your leg? If you don't mind me asking."

He stretches out his bad leg and pulls up the bottom of his pants. A long scar runs from the top of his foot, wrapping around his ankle and up the back of his calf. "I had an accident with some of our equipment at the farm when I was young. I never did walk normally after that."

Livestock. District 10 deals with farms and livestock. A scar like that had to have come from a really bad accident, and one that probably took a long time to heal. I shiver and continue watching the boys onscreen.

"You know," Peeta says, "we probably should try to find somewhere to sleep for the night." He slowly stands and wipes off his pants. He reaches down a hand to help Landrin up and looks around for a moment before picking up a huge pointed branch and inspects it. "In case we run in to someone and you need a weapon." He eyes Landrin for a moment before handing it to him tentatively. "Try not to use it on me anytime soon."

Landrin laughs and shakes his head. "No worries. You're the last person I'd go after."

* * *

The screen cuts to the careers, who are walking like hunters stalking their prey, making sure to be quiet as they listen for anyone that may be nearby. Cato's eyes narrow as he squints towards his left. He pauses and reaches out his hands to stop the others.

"I think I saw something in that direction." He nods his head and changes course; the others follow swiftly behind him.

I hear a chuckle in the room and glance over to see Axel smiling at me.

"What?" My annoyance shows in my voice and he winks at me.

"They're going in Peeta's direction, in case you haven't noticed."

"What?"

I feel the blood drain from my face as I see the careers slowly and unknowingly make their way towards Peeta and Landrin. So far I don't think they've spotted them and I silently begin praying that Peeta and Landrin will hide somewhere before they do.

Cato steps on a branch and the sound echoes through the forest. Peeta and Landrin freeze before ducking for cover underneath a huge overgrown bush, making sure that their footprints are cleared behind them. Just as his last leg is pulled underneath Peeta's body, the careers step into the small clearing where the boys just stood.

"Dammit, Cato, I thought you heard something," Clove says, kicking a rock at the bush the boys hide inside. It smacks Landrin on the shin and he bites his lip, not making a sound. "At the pace we're going, we won't get anyone else tonight."

"Shut up." He holds a hand up to Clove and looks around. "You don't hear that? Listen."

The three of them are silent as they listen carefully. The boys look like they're holding their breath; Landrin looks as if he's ready to burst in tears from fright but Peeta shakes his head at him silently. Landrin nods.

A sniffle sounds and Peeta's head snaps back at Landrin, but it wasn't him. The careers rip off in the other direction and a terrified scream sounds in the distance as the trio begin laughing manically. The screen cuts to a small girl huddled in a ball as the other three tower over her, taunting her. Cato reaches down and wraps his thick hands around her throat and I turn away.

I close my eyes and breathe out, relieving myself and walking out of the room for a moment. A loud choked scream echoes as the door closes behind me; I try to ignore that the last few seconds of the scream turned to a loud disturbing gurgle, followed by a cannon shooting in the distance.

That could have been them.

That could have been Peeta.

A sob escapes my throat and I plop down on a bench, resting my face in my hands. A gentle hand clasps down on my shoulder. I jump nearly three feet in the air, but I'm greeted by a warm smile from a boy with bronze hair and gentle green eyes.

"It's going to be okay, Katniss." He leans back and rests his head against the wall behind us and sits in silence for a moment. He clears his throat and looks at me. "I'm Zeno."

I nod and stare at my hands in my lap. "I'd introduce myself, but obviously there's no need." He doesn't reply. An old man cloaked in red walks by and winks at us. I bite my lip and look back at the door leading to the Amici room. "We should probably get back in there."

"I can sit with you, if you'd like. Out here, I mean. I like it out here," he says. He gestures towards the door. "In there, it's... uncomfortable." The silence around us is comfortable, though, giving a stark contrast to the atmosphere inside.

"That's one way of putting it." Another girl screams from the Games inside and another cannon goes off. "I guess Cato got another victim in there." I pause. "He looked so overjoyed to kill, to take someone else's life. I'm not sure how someone could have it in them to do that."

"That's how all careers are. They're trained and bred to kill," he says quietly. "It's disgusting." He ruffles his hair and sighs. "I wonder the same thing, really. How someone can kill and walk away so easily. Sometimes I think they can't help it- their upbringing and all, but then again... I don't know."

"What do we have here? Katniss congregating with the enemy?"

"Shut up, Axel," Zeno mutters.

Axel stands in the entryway of the room and closes the door behind him. He smiles cockily and watches us. He concentrates his attention on Zeno and instantly I want nothing more than to claw his eyes out in annoyance,

"Geez, I'm just asking a question. Your brother is doing pretty well in there so far, Zeno." His brother? Who is he here for?

"Half brother. Your sister isn't hurting too bad either, Axel."

"Sure isn't. She's killing it." He pauses and chuckles. "Literally."

I feel sick to my stomach and turn away.

To joke about death, about murder, is wrong.

"We'll, I'm going back inside. I hear Cato found a the girl from ten up in a tree." The door closes behind him and I exhale.

"God, I hate him," I mutter. "Douchebag, anyone?"

Zeno chuckles and extends his hand. "Come on, we should go back in. I'll sit with you if you want." When I pause he shakes his head and leans in. "Don't worry, I know about you and Peeta. We could all use an extra friend right about now."

I nod and slowly stand to take his hand. He gives mine a squeeze and releases it to open the door for me. The way his whole demeanor is isn't like he's trying to make a move or like he's being pushy; he seems so brotherly right now, so nurturing.

Whoever he is, I like him.

I can tell we could be friends if we're both here for awhile. As we sit down in our plush seats I lean in towards him to ask a question.

"Speaking of, who is your tribute?"

His face echoes the flash of the screen as it cuts to Cato laughing while recounting the killing of his last tribute. A smear of blood dirties his face and he smiles widely as his hands animatedly gesture during his storytelling.

I look back at Zeno and I know the answer before he says it.

"Cato. I'm here for Cato." He looks away guiltily and doesn't make eye contact with me. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong," I say stiffly.

Except forgetting to tell me your brother is the biggest threat in the Games. The answer had been staring me in the face, literally, for a few minutes now.

"Listen," he says quietly, "I'm not like the others, okay? I'm not."

"I didn't say anything."

He sighs and sinks down in his chair. Cato's face flashes onscreen again and he looks away. Restless, he fidgets for a few moments before standing.

"I'm thirsty. Are you thirsty?"

I shake my head.

"Well, I am. I'll be back." I pull my knees up and he passes by before walking out of the room.

Go figure the first day of the Games I make friends with the enemy's brother. Part of me wants to shrug this off, but I'd feel as if I were betraying Peeta. Like I would be hurting his chances of survival. Aggravated, I stand and leave the room again, this time going back to my bedroom for a moment to find something to tie my hair up with.

When I open the door the gust of air from the hallway shifts a small folded up piece of paper that has fallen on the floor. Confused, I pick it up and turn the light on. The familiar script handwriting, gorgeous in all its splendor, stands out to me and I know instantly whose handwriting it is. But what is it? I open it carefully and in one fell swoop the air rushes out from my lungs.

It's a letter.

From Peeta.


	13. Chapter 13

_Dear Katniss,_

_Tonight was the best night of my life._

_Thank you._

_Time has been scarce lately. Time has been scarce always. I never had the right moment to tell you things I always wanted to say; I never had the nerve to say the words always on the tip of my tongue. Even tonight I couldn't say those words I always wanted to tell you to your face._

_I'm in love with you._

_I have been since we were kids. I was in love with you all the times I held your hand when your Dad died, I was in love with you all the times we lay under the tree in your backyard, and I was in love with you all the times we would sit on your porch and stare at the stars telling each other our secrets- all the while, I was keeping my biggest one from you._

_Holding you in my arms tonight and finally kissing you, unrestrained and free, was a dream come true and a memory that will keep me going when the Games start tomorrow. I'm not sure what will happen, but I want to make one final pact with you._

_I promise to fight with everything I have to come home to you._

_I promise to never give up._

_I promise to never stop trying._

_But if I fail- and Katniss, I need you to accept that this could be a possibility- I want you to keep pushing too, like we agreed on in our original pact with Gale. Be there for my family. Be there for Prim. Be there for Gale. You have my blessings in everything. I want you to be happy, even if that means I won't be there with you._

_I love you._

_I love you._

_I love you._

_Never forget that. _

_Yours always,_

_Peeta_

My hands are shaking as I hold the letter in my hands. Tears are flowing and I finally let myself break, truly break, since the day I said goodbye to Peeta when he was reaped. I sob, the hard kind that shakes your entire body and leaves you gasping. The kind of crying that leaves you with a headache for hours afterwards.

The kind of crying where you fall asleep because it wipes you out so completely.

When I wake up I check the clock and curse when I see three hours have passed. Was I that exhausted? I rush back to the room and run into Zeno first thing, go figure. When I slam into him as I rush into the room, he grips my arms in his hands and squeezes me.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I fell asleep. Is he okay? Did he-"

"He's fine. He's taking care of Landrin. He ate something and its making him sick."

My face pales. "Did Peeta eat it too? What was it?"

"No, Peeta didn't eat it. Landrin got sick immediately after eating it so he threw it away. But it's making the poor guy miserable."

I look at the screen to see Peeta trying to get Landrin to drink some water, but he brushes it away and turns his head. All of a sudden Landrin leans over and begins throwing up. Peeta pats his back, obviously unsure of what to do to help him at this point.

It could just be food poisoning, but if its anything worse Landrin will need medicine. There's no telling when that could come at this point so early in the Games, but there could be a chance it'll flush out of his system in a few hours.

Peeta brings another cup of water to his face. "Come on, Landrin. You need fluids. It'll help you." Landrin shakes his head and pushes it away again. My stomach sinks.

The screen cuts to Stella who is following a small boy with red hair. She watches him from behind a tree and he stops for a moment as if he hears something. She retreats, ducking her head, and he continues walking slowly. He holds a jagged looking dagger in his hand; it looks a bit rusty.

Huh. Technically he could just nick someone and just give them tetanus and kill them that way. Smart kid.

Stella continues to follow him but he sees her out of the corner of his eye and starts sprinting. She takes off after him, leaping over tree branches, blonde hair flying behind her. He trips over something and she's on him in a heart beat.

In front of me, Axel chuckles and leans forward towards the screen.

Even if Peeta was winning, I could never be happy that innocent people are dying.

Ever.

The boy starts screaming and Stella laughs, pinning his arms and legs down. Tears stream down his face; he's terrified. She rips his knife from his hands and stares down at him with cold eyes for a few moments before slowly holding it to his neck, pausing for a few seconds, and yanking it to the side in one swift motion.

His body jerks once and then goes limp. A cannon goes off in the distance and she smiles to herself proudly. The screen cuts to her face which is now covered in his blood. She pulls up her shirt to wipe it off and jumps up to see if anyone is around her. Seeing that she's still alone, Stella leaves his bloody body behind to find shelter.

The sight of such a beautiful girl covered in someone else's blood while walking through the forest is unsettling. Her blonde hair is matted with it. Her clothes are dripping. A place that is so naturally beautiful is now tainted with an image of death.

She heads towards the creek to wash off her blood stained clothes. She washes underneath a rock overhang, hidden by its shadows, and she takes her time washing her face and hair out. Discarding her shirt first to wash the stains out, she next takes off her pants to give them the same treatment.

By the time she's finished you can barely see the blood stains- they just look like ordinary dirty clothes tinged with the red clay of the forest. After she's fully clothed she gathers her things to try and find shelter for the evening.

As she's trying to climb a tree, I see the girl named Rue watching her from a tree over. She snickers when Stella repeatedly falls down the tree but doesn't say anything for awhile. Stella curses when she takes a particularly hard fall and rubs her elbow; a bit of blood appears and she wipes it away. She kicks the tree and stands there staring at it trying to figure out a way to get up.

"If you find the big knobs sticking out the side, it's easier," Rue calls down.

Stella's head snaps up and she squints, spotting Rue. She reaches her hand up to a big one sticking out and hoists herself up, sticking her foot in a concave in the side of the trunk. She repeats this step going up the whole tree and finally finds a heavy branch she's satisfied with, so she sets camp for the evening.

"Thanks," Stella calls out to Rue. She inspects her elbow again and rubs it a few times. She glances over again at the small girl and narrows her eyes. "Aren't you from Eleven?"

Rue nods but doesn't say anything more. Smart girl. Rue walks over a few heavy branches to get a few more trees away from Stella, which frankly is a good move but confuses me a bit. If she doesn't want an alliance, why help her get up the tree?

Stella calls out to her again. "Hey." Rue doesn't respond. "Listen, I'm not going to hurt you tonight. You don't have to run."

"I'm not running. Just being careful."

"Careful? I'm not dangerous or anything. Promise."

My eyes narrow. Just a few hours ago she slit a little boys throat.

If that's not dangerous, I don't know what is.

"Have you killed anyone?"

Stella pauses. "Only people that have attacked me first."

Liar.

"I heard screaming earlier from a little boy. I wasn't sure..."

"He came at me with a knife. I had to protect myself," Stella says. Why is she lying? What is she playing at? She hunted that boy down like he was her dinner.

Rue pauses, watching Stella. Her eyes flicker down to the girls bleeding elbow. "See that branch above your head?" Stella looks up at one holding a bunch of berries and looks back at Rue, nodding. "If you mash those up and put it on your scrape it'll heal faster."

Stella grabs some in her hand and squishes them onto her cut. She instantly smiles and looks at Prim in relief. "Thanks. Feels better already."

"No problem. I'm pretty good with plants and stuff." Rue shivers and clutches her jacket closer around her body.

"I'm good at fighting. We could make a good team, you know," Stella says. Rue doesn't say anything. "Come on, it couldn't hurt right now. Between the two of us we could get pretty far. I took down a career at the bloodbath." Rue's head snaps up. "I'm strong. I could help you."

Obviously Rue is thinking about it but she seems hesitant. She bites the inside of her cheek and brushes some dirt off her pants leg.

"For a little bit. For now." Rue looks at her. "I'm Rue. What's your name again?"

"My name is Stella."

When she smiles at Rue, it doesn't reach her eyes.

* * *

Off in the distance, the careers find a young girl hiding behind a pile of shrubs. One of the Amici in the room whoops and I shrink down in my seat. Zeno, sitting next to me, looks away from the screen as Clove pulls out her knives and begins throwing them one by one at the girl. Shrill screams ring out amongst them, but their laughter drown the sound out. She's still not dead. Marvel holds his spear but makes no move to use it; Cato eyes the girl and then sneers at Clove.

"Taking your time today, aren't you?"

"Do I comment on how you kill, Cato?"

"Just hurry up. We're still trying to find others, not just this one."

She wipes her forehead and pulls out one final blade from her jacket. She twirls it in her hand, watching her prey, deciding on where she can aim. Knives stick out from her abdomen and other places; apparently Clove decided on a direct hot to the heart when the blade makes a small thud noise into the girls chest. A cannon goes off and the Careers begin cheering and high diving each other.

With all the kills combined, we are down to a total of nine tributes left.

Zeno shivers and glances at me out of the corner of his eye. I take that as my cue to leave the room again and get fresh air. Seeing so much death is unsettling. It makes my heart hurt.

Disappointment follows when I leave the room to see that Zeno has decided to join me outside. Before I can retreat back to my room, he holds a hand up to stop me. I open my mouth to retort but he cuts me off.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to lie to you about who I was." He runs a hand through his hair. "I feel like you're angry at me."

"I'm not angry." My voice sounds cold even to me and instantly I feel bad, but only a little. "I'm just tired, Zeno. We all are tired."

He rolls his eyes. "Maybe that's true, and if it is, I'm sorry for pushing this. But we need each other. I don't want to be here any more than you."

"I don't need anyone but Peeta, and he's in the Games if you haven't noticed." My eyes narrow. "Why did you stay if you don't want to be here? No ones forcing you to be here."

He snorts. "You haven't met my parents. They basically told me I'm disowned if I didn't stay here." I raise an eyebrow. "No, really. Why do you think Cato is like he is? My parents raised us like that. I'm just the black sheep of the family, through and through." His eyes are sad when he says this.

"I'm not mad at you Zeno, I was just a bit surprised," I say with a sigh. "This whole thing is crazy. I still don't understand why we're staying here for this. What's the point? They could have let us say goodbye and sent us home again."

"Something's up," he says quietly. "Something doesn't feel right."

"I know."

"I'm guessing you guys didn't hear about the rule change then?" Axel walks out of the room and interrupts our conversation yet again. He sits down on the bench and looks up at us as he ties his shoe. "I hear they have quiet an ending to the Games this year."

"What are you talking about?"

He winks at me. "I'm not sure, Katniss. But even if I did, I sure as hell wouldn't tell you."

"What the hell is your problem?"

"My problem? My problem is you and your damn Baker boy stealing all of Stella's spotlight. She's one of the strongest people in the Games, one of the smartest, and she didn't get shit noticed because of you two."

"It's not her fault," Zeno says in a low voice. "Maybe you should go back in the room, Katniss."

Axel stands and gets right in Zeno's face. "What, you scared I'm going to hurt her feelings? She's a big girl, Zeno." He pauses. "You know, I wouldn't get on my bad side. Too bad Cato isn't here to help me out."

"The hell are you talking about?"

"Word travels fast, Zeno. Word on the street is you grew up bullied in your district and that even Cato chipped in occasionally." Zeno tenses and Axel smiles. "There it is. Poor little Zeno wasn't the pride and joy of his parents, huh? Everyone loves Cato. He's the sunshine of that family."

Zeno grabs my hand and pulls me down the hallway away from Axel. We round the corner and he opens a door leading into a stairwell, where he promptly slams the door shut behind us and stands there uncomfortably.

I don't say anything at first. What do you say to someone who always lived in the shadow of his brother? Who was constantly bullied? Granted, Peeta got it from his mother but he has his father and the rest of us to keep him sane. Zeno probably doesn't.

God, he has to be so lonely.

Surrounded by all those people that live for the Games, that thrive on competition, that can't wait to volunteer every year, that cheer for every murder. To live in a place like that with a soul like his... I can't even imagine.

"This is awkward," he says quietly.

"I thrive on awkwardness." I smile and he breathes out a sigh of release. Dealing with Peeta all these years taught me how to make someone relax in moments like these. Acting weird or not acknowledging things isn't good, but neither is forcing someone to talk about it. "You don't have to explain anything. Don't worry."

He looks like he wants to talk but then shakes his head, looking away. He bites his lip and I hear growling coming from his belly. Since he doesn't want to talk, maybe he'll be down for something else.

"Want to grab some food? I'm hungry."


End file.
